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PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 


a 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING 

AND  DEBATE 

A  Manual  for  Advocates  and  Agitators 


BY 

GEORGE  JACOB  HOLYOAKE 

AUTHOR   OF    'sixty    YEARS   OF   AN    AGITATOR'S    LIFE' 


All  who  in  the  service  of  God  or  Man  disseminate  sentiments  of  truth 
and  equity,  are  agitators  in  the  better  sense  of  the  term ' 

Maxim  of  Progress 


NEW  EDITION 


BOSTON 

Published  by  GINN  &  COMPANY 

1S97 


*  •  V  ■ 


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^nscribet) 

TO  THE 

REV.  JOSEPH   PARKER,  D.D. 

HIMSELF   A   MASTER   IN  THE  ART 

THIS   BOOK   IS  WRITTEN   TO   COMMEND,   WHOM  THE  AUTHOR 

FOUND    TO  BE   FAIR   IN   DISCUSSION,    IN    DAYS 

WHEN   FEW  MINISTERS   WERE   SO  ; 

AND   WHO    IN    LATER   YEARS  WAS   HIS    FRIEND,    NOTWITHSTANDING 

HIS  DIVERGENCY   IN   THEOLOGICAL  OPINION, 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I.    INTRODUCTION,  ... 
II.    THE   SOCIAL  AND   PUBLIC   USES   OF   RHETORIC, 

III.  THE  NATURE  OF   RHETORIC,       . 

IV.  WHAT   IS   MEANT  BY   ELOCUTION, 
V.   REPRESENTATIVE  SPEECH, 

VI.   LOGIC  OF   EVERY-DAY  LIFE, 
VII.   DELIVERY, 

VIII.   GESTURE   MEASURED   BY  CONVICTION, 
IX.   CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS, 
X.    LAWS   OF   DEBATE, 

XI.   PERSONALITIES  THE  DIGRESSIONS  OF 
XII.    POLICY   OF  DEBATE, 
XIII.    DEFENCE   OF   DEBATE,      . 
XIV.   THE     THEORY     OF     EPITHETS — MORAL 

RHETORICAL,    . 
XV.   METHOD   IN   EXPRESSION 
XVI.   TACT  AN  ACQUISITION, 
XVII.   CONTINGENCIES   OF   PUBLIC   MEETINGS, 
XVIII.   WRITING   FOR  THE   PRESS, 
XIX.    SOURCES   OF   TASTE, 

XX.   PREMEDITATION    IN   SPEECH,      . 
XXI.   REPETITION   A   NECESSITY, 


DEBATE, 


AS  WELL  AS 


PAGE 
I 

4 

6 

8 

II 

IS 

26 

37 
39 
SO 
6o 

67 

75 

83 
92 

102 

loS 

"3 
119 

124 

130 


vni 


CONTENTS 


CHAP 

XXII.  SIGNS  OF  MASTERY,       . 
XXIII.   NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY, 
XXIV.   ORIGINALITY   IN   ORATORY, 
XXV.   THE   OUTSIDE   MIND   OF   THE   ORATOR, 
XXVI.   PULPIT  ORATORY, 
XXVII.   PLATFORM   READING,     . 
XXVIII.    FIGURES   OF  SPEECH,    . 
XXIX.    POETRY   IN   RELATION   TO   RHETORIC, 
XXX.   STYLE   EXPLAINED, 
XXXI.   WHAT  HAS   BEEN   SAID, 
XXXII.    PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY,       , 

INDEX,    ..... 


PAGE 

141 
161 

180 
197 

202 
212 
222 
230 
240 

2S7 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 


CHAPTER    I 

INTRODUCTION 

Many  years  ago  I  printed  an  outline  book  on  this  sub- 
ject {Public  Speaki?ig  and  Debate)  for  the  use  of  persons 
who  found  learned  treatises  on  oratory  uninteresting,  or 
too  profound  to  be  intelligible.  Though  dealing  alone 
with  the  Rudiments  of  the  art,  it  was  reprinted  in 
America,  and  in  1853  the  New  York  Trihine  described 
it  as  being  'unpretentious  and  practical.'  After  the  ex- 
perience of  forty  years,  I  write  a  new  book,  and  trust  the 
reader  will  find  the  same  qualities  in  it. 

In  1862,  the  Rev.  Mr  Vickers  of  Boston,  America,  then 
visiting  England,  informed  me  that  he  took  up,  in  a  New 
York  book-shop,  a  copy  of  a  work  entitled.  Public  Speaking 
and  Debate^  by  John  Bower.  Upon  opening  it  he  found 
that  it  was  an  American  edition  of  Public  Speaking  and 
Debate,  by  G.  J.  Holyoake,  with  the  name  of  the  author 
borne  by  another.  This,  I  hope,  may  be  taken  as  proof 
that  the  book  was  thought  useful  by  the  new  author. 

But  a  testimony  of  which  I  have  always  been  proud  was 
that  of  Wendell  Phillips — whom  Mr  Bright  said  to  me  had 
the  most  eloquent  voice  which  spoke  the  English  tongue.' 
Mr  Phillips  sent  me  word  that  he  had  lent  '  his  well-thumbed 
copy  of  Public  Speaking  and  Debate  until  he  had  lost  it,  upon 


2  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  theory  [he  benevolently  held]  that  he  who  most  needed 
a  book  had  the  greatest  right  to  it.'  Upon  that  principle, 
Mr  Phillips  certainly  did  not  require  it.  Still,  I  sent  him 
another  copy.  It  was  probably  the  ethical  theory  of  debate 
contained  in  it,  upon  which  we  had  had  personal  contro- 
versy,* which  interested  him. 

The  earliest  and  most  generous  of  English  critics  was  the 
Rev.  Dr  Joseph  Parker,  who,  when  he  edited  the  Pulpit 
Analist,  said  to  young  preachers  :  '  There  is  Mr  Holyoake's 
Rudiments  of  Public  Speaking  and  Debate.  Get  this  book 
if  you  can.  I  am  afraid  it  is  out  of  print.  It  is  full  of  wise 
and  practical  counsel,  and  rich  with  allusion  and  quotation 
of  the  best  kind,'  in  illustration  of  which  a  passage  of  two 
pages  was  cited.  Considering  that  Dr  Parker's  belief  differed 
widely  from  mine,  of  which  he  was  well  aware,  seeing  that 
we  had  held  a  public  debate  thereupon  for  several  nights,  I 
cite  his  words  (though  it  will  seem  egotistical  to  do  it),  since 
they  exceed  anything  I  could  think  of  saying  myself,  to 
the  end  of  engaging  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  these 
pages,  which  I  suppose  to  be  the  object  of  all  intro- 
ductions. 

Another  motive  higher  than  egotism,  induces  me  to  in- 
scribe this  book  as  the  reader  sees  I  do.  When  Mr  Allsop 
proposed  to  supplement  an  annuity  given  me,  Dr  Parker 
sent  a  subscription  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Daily  News, 
intended  to  be  of  service  to  the  fund.  I  cannot  agree 
where  I  would — were  coincidence  of  belief  a  matter  of 
will — but  an  act  of  kindness  I  never  forget,  and  I  am  glad 
when  I  can  acknowledge  it. 

As  respects  the  texture  of  the  following  pages,  the  reader 
will  discern  that  it  has  no  merit  save  incitement,  if  indeed 
it  has  that. 

What  is  called  a  '  systematic  treatise '  is  what  is  usually 
looked  for  on  the  subject  of  public  speaking.     But  I  have 

*  See  '  Reply  to  Letter  of  Ion '  in  the  Melodeon,  Boston — the  only 
reply  Mr  Phillips  told  me  he  ever  made  to  a  European  critic. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

found  those  who  have  followed  such  have  rarely  become 
speakers  of  mark,  until  they  have  freed  themselves  from  the 
'  system '  and  trusted  to  themselves.  A  system  is  a  sort  of 
machine,  and  one  reared  in  it,  is  apt  to  be  entangled  in 
wheels  within  wheels,  when  the  time  comes  for  action  ;  or  he 
finds  that  the  machine,  though  of  most  excellent  construc- 
tion, will  not  work  just  when  it  is  most  wanted  to  do  it. 
Now,  a  series  of  chapters  on  the  essential  parts  of  public 
speaking — not  chained  together,  but  capable  of  independent 
use  on  emergency,  with  a  springing  board  in  each  of  them 
from  which  a  speaker  of  moderate  activity  can  throw  himself 
at  will,  as  it  were,  into  the  heart  of  an  argument — will  best 
serve  the  practical  student.  The  execution  may  not  equal  the 
design  but  this  is  the  rule  on  which  these  pages  are  written. 

Whatever  may  conduce  to  improvement  in  the  art  and 
character  of  agitation,  as  it  is  the  hope  of  the  Author  this 
book  will  do,  may  be  of  public  service,  seeing  what  an 
increase  of  wise,  reasoning  voices  will  be  heard  in  the  land, 
as  sure-footed  democracy  advances. 

The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  being  apparently  only 
acquainted  with  the  bad  meaning  of  the  term,  lately  spoke 
contemptuously  of  '  agitators,'  whereupon  the  Rev.  Stewart 
Headlam  justly  asked,  '  Were  not  Paul,  and  even  our  Lord 
Himself,  agitators  ?  Surely  it  depends  upon  what  you 
agitate  for,  and  how  you  agitate,  as  to  whether  an 
"  agitator  "  is  to  be  condemned  or  praised.'  Mr  Headlam 
might  have  asked,  where  would  the  Archbishop  be  but  for 
that  superb,  irrepressible  agitator  Luther?  Not  thought 
much  of  by  the  archbishops  of  his  day. 

Just-minded  agitation  prevents  the  putrefaction  of  opinion, 
which  is  as  fatal  to  States  as  to  Truth.     Cowper  wrote : — 

Winds  from  all  quarters  agitate  the  air, 
And  fit  the  limpid  element  for  use. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   SOCIAL   AND   PUBLIC   USES   OF   RHETORIC 

In  this  country,  where  the  political  genius  of  the  people 
lies  in  self-government,  where  liberty  depends  upon  the 
capacity  of  justly  stating  its  claims,  the  art  of  public  speaking 
has  public  importance. 

To  be  able  to  take  a  subject  well  in  hand,  like  a  stage- 
coach driver  does  his  horses,  to  hold  the  reins  of  argument 
firmly,  to  direct  and  drive  well  home  the  burden  of  mean- 
ing, is  a  power  useful  to  every  man  who  rises  to  address  a 
congregation  or  a  council,  or  stands  up  in  Parliament  to 
persuade,  or  on  a  platform  to  convince  a  meeting. 

Perfect  expression  is  even  an  indispensable  household 
acquisition — a  social  charm,  an  economy  in  explanation, 
and  hourly  ministers  to  good  understandings.  In  public,  a 
good  speech,  well-spoken,  is  part  of  the  necessary  defence 
of  truth  and  right.  In  one  of  his  famous  letters  to  Mr 
Delane  (1864),  Mr  Cobden  remarks  : — 

*  It  is  known  that  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  writing  a  word 
beforehand  of  what  I  speak  in  public.  Like  other  speakers, 
practice  has  given  me  as  perfect  self-possession  in  the 
presence  of  an  audience,  as  if  I  were  writing  in  my  closet. 
Now,  my  ever-constant  and  over-ruling  thought  while 
addressing  a  public  meeting — the  one  necessity  which  long 
experience  of  the  arts  of  controversialists  has  impressed  on 
my  mind,  is  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  being  misrepresented, 
and  prevent  my  opponents  from  raising  a  false  issue — a 
trick  of  logic  as  old  as  the  time  of  Aristotle.  If  I  have,  as 
some  favourable  critics  are  pleased  to  think,  sometimes 

4 


THE   SOCIAL  AND   PUBLIC   USES   OF    RHETORIC      5 

spoken  with  clearness,  it  is  more  owing  to  this  ever-present 
fear  of  misrepresentation  than  any  other  cause.' 

This  remarkable  antobiographical  passage  shows  how  the 
practice  of  rhetoric  had  trained  great  natural  powers  to 
explicitness  and  mastery  in  their  use. 

Progression  is  a  series  of  stages — individuals  first,  then 
groups,  then  classes,  then  nations  are  raised.  You  can  no 
more  introduce  the  people  at  once  to  the  highest  results  of 
philosophy  than  you  can  take  them  to  the  summit  of  a 
monument  without  ascending  the  steps,  or  reach  a 
distant  land  without  travelling  to  it.  But  it  is  possible  to 
impart  method  in  classification,  coherence  in  inferences, 
and  inculcate  justice  in  invective.  The  people  are  not 
waiting  for  new  discoveries  in  thought ;  there  is  more 
wisdom  extant  than  they  master,  more  precepts  than  they 
apply.  The  scaling-ladders  of  the  wise,  which  they,  having 
mounted  the  citadel  of  wisdom,  have  kicked  down,  are  yet 
of  service  to  those  who  are  below.  The  author  has  picked 
one  of  these  ladders  up,  and  reared  it  in  these  pages  for 
the  use  of  those  who  have  yet  to  rise. 

In  the  ancient  state  of  society,  war  was  the  only  trade, 
force  the  only  teacher,  and  the  battle-axe  the  only  argu- 
ment. A  transition  has,  indeed,  taken  place ;  the  times, 
and  means,  and  ends  are  changed.  The  struggle  now  is 
for  income  and  intelligence,  and  most  men  are  engaged  in  a 
double  battle  against  want  and  error.  Provided  the  literary 
sword  will  cut,  few  will  quarrel  about  its  polish.  If  the 
blade  has  good  temper,  he  who  needs  it  will  put  up  with  a 
plain  hilt. 

A  poor  man  cannot  rival  the  rich  in  luxury  of  life,  but 
he  can  in  luxury  of  knowledge.  He  cannot  furnish  his 
house  as  the  wealthy  can,  but  he  can  furnish  his  head.  He 
cannot  found  a  house  of  note,  but  he  may  found  a  mind  of 
mark.  Though  some  kingdoms  may  be  afilicted  or  adorned 
with  kings,  learning  has  always  been  a  republic,  where  all 
are  equal  who  know. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   NATURE   OF   RHETORIC 

Plato's  definition  of  rhetoric  is  still  bright  and  suggestive ; 
namely :  '  Rhetoric  is  the  art  of  persuading  the  minds  of 
men.'  Rhetoric  is  commonly  regarded  as  a  pretentious, 
superfine,  or  ornate  way  of  presenting  an  argument; 
whereas  rhetoric  merely  means  the  art  of  speaking  to  a 
purpose.  A  rhetorician  originally  meant  a  public  speaker, 
whose  object  was  orally  to  influence  opinion  in  courts,  in 
council,  or  in  public  meetings.  The  highest  effort  of  public 
speaking  is  seen  when  the  object  of  the  speaker  is  to  per- 
suade the  minds  of  men  to  accept  some  great  principle, 
or  adopt  some  just  policy  in  public  affairs. 

There  were  two  Herberts  of  mark  in  literature — George 
(1581)  and  Edward  (1593).  Edward  is  commonly  spoken 
of  as  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury.  It  is  he  who  likens 
rhetoric  to  *  a  diamond  which  is  of  small  use  until  it  is  cut 
and  polished,  when  its  angles  send  forth  flashes  of  light 
which  arrest  and  delight  every  eye.' 

By  reasoning  we  satisfy  ourselves,  by  rhetoric  we  satisfy 
others.  The  rhetorician  is  commonly,  but  unwisely,  con- 
sidered most  perfect  who  carries  his  point  by  whatever 
means.  '  Men  like  to  see  the  man  who  is  a  match  for 
events,  and  equal  to  any  exigency.'  But  it  is  plain  we  must 
make  some  distinction  as  to  the  manner  in  which  a  point 
is  to  be  carried.  We  may  as  well  say  that  a  man  may 
carry  the  point  of  life  by  any  means,  that  is  fill  his  pockets 

6 


THE   NATURE   OF   RHETORIC  7 

by  any  means,  as  influence  men  by  any  means.  A  low 
appeal  to  the  passions  we  call  claptrap.  Dr  Johnson,  who 
put  morality  into  his  definitions,  said,  '  Oratory  is  the  power 
of  beating  down  your  adversaries'  arguments,  and  putting 
better  in  their  places.' 

It  impHes  force  and  individuality  of  mind  when  a  man 
desires  to  reason  out  things  for  himself.     Most  men  prefer 
to  be  told  what  to  think ;  they  are  perplexed,  and  find  them- 
selves lost  in  a  maze  of  feeling,  prejudice  and  interests ; 
they  cannot  see  far,  nor  appreciate  what  is  near.     They 
might  have  a  commanding  view  of  the  field  of  difficulty  from 
an  eminence,  but  eminences  are  not  to  be  attained  without 
exertion,  and  most  men  are  disinclined  to  exertion.     They 
are  therefore  grateful  to  anyone  who  will  climb  the  mount 
and  tell  them  what  he  sees.     But  if  he  can  do  more — can 
tell  them  not  only  what  they  should  do  and  why  they  should 
do  it — he  opens  their  minds,  satisfies  their  judgment,  and 
inspires  them  with  a  new  and,  let  us  hope  with  Dr  Johnson, 
a   right   purpose.     He  who    satisfies   by  right   reason  the 
conscience  of  others,   commands  them    without  fraud   or 
force.     He  teaches  no  unmanly  subjection  of  the  under- 
standing;   he   neither   invokes   nor   needs    submission    to 
authority ;  he  represents  the  only  leadership  consistent  with 
progress — the  leadership  of  ideas  commended  by  reason. 
Such  are  the  just  aims  of  honest  rhetoric. 


CHAPTER    IV 

WHAT   IS   MEANT    BY    ELOCUTION 

The  literal  meaning  of  elocution  is  *to  speak  out.*  Dic- 
tionaries and  writers  on  rhetoric  define  elocution  as  that 
pronunciation  which  is  given  to  words  when  they  are 
arranged  into  sentences  and  form  discourse.  This  concep- 
tion of  it  confines  it  to  articulation,  whereas  elocution 
includes  accurateness,  distinctness  and  natural  modulation 
of  words,  in  private  as  well  as  public  life.  Modulation 
comes  by  emotion,  but  accuracy  and  distinctness  of  speech 
come  by  art. 

The  object  of  public  speech  is  persuasion.  It  ought  to 
be  the  object  of  private  speech  also.  To  persuade  by 
public  speech  requires  a  voice  articulate  and  audible.  That 
is  the  beginning  of  practical  influence  in  elocution.  A 
man  will  speak  all  his  life  and  never  notice  that  words 
are  merely  sounds.  Accustomed  to  see  words  in  books,  he 
forgets,  or  does  not  realise,  that  words  are  merely  sounds 
to  the  hearer.  The  difference  between  the  foreign  language 
and  the  English  consists  only  in  a  different  set  of  sounds. 
A  man  wonders,  when  he  stands  by  a  telegraph  clerk,  how 
he  turns  ticks  into  words,  and  does  not  know  that  the  ticks 
are  sounds  of  words  made  by  a  machine.  Chicago  is  a 
fine  Indian  word,  sounding  as  though  written  She-c^r-go. 
If  anyone  should  pronounce  it  Chick-a-go,  nobody  would 
understand  what  place  he  meant ;  or  should  he  at  dinner, 
wanting  tomatoes,  pronounce  the  word  tom-a-toes,  the 
waiter  would  not  know  what  to  give  him. 

A  speaker   must  use  his  ears   to  learn  what  sounds   he 

8 


WHAT   IS   MEANT   BY   ELOCUTION  9 

should  make,  and  be  alert  with  his  ears  to  note  what  sounds 
others  make.  People  will  listen  to  one  who  can  be  easily 
heard.  The  clear,  strong  speaking  man  can  command  a 
hearing.  He  who  fills  the  ear  carries  weight.  Few  have 
minds  to  fill — all  have  ears. 

A  letter  addressed  as  follows  was  a  puzzle  to  the  best 
readers  in  the  Post  Office  for  some  time : — '  Serum  Fridavi, 
Londres ; '  when,  by  reading  the  address  aloud,  with  the 
French  as  well  as  the  English  sound  of  the  vowels,  it  was 
found  to  be — 'Sir  Humphry  Davy,  London.' 

At  an  Anti-Corn  Law  meeting  held  in  Glasgow,  in  1845, 
I  sat  at  half-distance  from  the  platform.  As  my  name  had 
been  given  to  the  Lord  Provost,  I  was  uncertain  whether  I 
should  not  be  called  upon  to  take  part  in  the  proceedings, 
and  therefore  was  anxious  to  hear  all  that  was  said.  It  was 
at  this  time  that  I  first  felt  perfectly  the  annoyance  of  indis- 
tinct speaking.  At  the  Newhall  Hill  meetings  in  Birming- 
ham I  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  Warwickshire  orators 
vocal,  but  in  Glasgow  I  found  they  only  spoke,  and  spoke 
as  though  they  were  paid  for  the  sound  they  made,  and  did 
not  get  a  good  price  for  it.  At  length  the  Rev.  Dr  King 
arose,  who  spoke  with  strong  deliberateness — words  well 
conceived  and  well  delivered.  The  syllables  fell  on  the 
ear  like  the  steady  tolling  of  a  bell.  His  voice  was  the 
relief  of  the  night.  Whenever  I  go  to  a  public  meeting,  I 
pray  that  one  of  the  speakers  may  have  Dr  King's  quality 
of  utterance. 

There  are  two  ways  of  speaking — one  from  the  throat,  the 
other  from  the  chest.  The  chest  voice  is  louder,  and  lasts 
longer.  The  stage  voice  is  a  chest  voice,  whose  uniformity 
and  peculiarity  everyone  knows.  Both  actors  and  singers  in- 
flate the  chest  to  deepen,  strengthen,  and  prolong  the  tones. 

Most  grammars  give  a  list  of  about  twenty-two  words 
beginning  with  h  in  which  the  h  is  not  sounded.  These  words 
have  to  be  spoken  as  though  they  began  with  a  vowel.  All 
other  words   beginning  with  h  must   have  that  letter   dis- 


lO  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

tinctly  heard.  In  illustration  of  this  neglect  of  aspiration* 
where  proper,  teachers  of  elocution  say  that  if  the  Indian 
swallows  the  sword  we  (h)eat  the  poker.  Care  in  speaking 
the  aspirate  words,  and  in  not  aspirating  words  where  the 
h  is  silent,  nor  in  words  beginning  with  a  vowel,  will  dis- 
appoint novelists  who,  unable  to  delineate  character  in  which 
the  person  is  identified  by  his  mind,  invent  peculiarities  of 
manners  or  of  speech.  Writers  of  small  knowledge  delight 
to  sneer  at  those  who  have  less,  and  write  the  names  of 
Harriet  and  Harry  without  the  H.  Rapid  utterance  and  a 
slovenliness  of  speaking,  habitual  with  those  who  have  not 
thought  upon  the  intention  of  speech,  make  it  difficult  to 
them  to  aspirate  when  they  should  and  avoid  doing  it  when 
they  should  not.  To  speak  the  aspirate  at  will,  or  to  omit 
it  at  will,  comes  easy  to  those  who  speak  deliberately. 
Vowels  should  have  a  bold  open  tone — a  slight,  short, 
mincing  pronunciation  of  the  unaccented  vowels  is  a  fault 
to  be  well  avoided. 

Audibility  depends  chiefly  on  articulation,  and  articulation 
depends  much  on  the  distinctness  with  which  we  hear  the 
final  consonants.     They  need  attention  as  well  as  vowels. 

W.  J.  Fox,  the  great  preacher  of  South  Place  Chapel, 
whose  voice  was  neither  loud  nor  strong,  was  heard  in  every 
part,  and  all  over  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  when  he  made 
Anti-Corn  Law  orations  there,  by  the  clearness  with  which 
he  pronounced  the  final  consonants  of  the  words  he  spoke. 
I  must  myself  have  failed  in  this  respect  when  speaking 
at  the  Walsall  Literary  Institute,  and  comparing  the  speak- 
ing of  Pitt  and  Mr  Chamberlain  as  having  the  same  quality 
of  '  overcomingness.'  The  report  in  the  papers  represented 
me  as  charging  Mr  Chamberlain  with  '  over-cunningness,' 
which  was  a  sinister  imputation  neither  in  my  mind  nor 
on  my  tongue — but  the  error  was  owing  to  defect  of  the 
reporter's  ear,  or  more  probably  to  indistinctness  in  my 
pronunciation. 

*  Aspiration  is  pronouncing  the  h  with  a  fiill  breath. 


CHAPTER    V 

REPRESENTATIVE   SPEECH 

To  speak  or  debate  to  any  advantage,  a  person  must  possess 
some  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  speech.  This  means  a  prac- 
tical idea  of  grammar — practical  in  the  sense  of  being  on  a 
level  with  the  average  capacity  of  mankind.  As  I  have  said 
elsewhere,  no  department  of  knowledge  is  like  grammar.  A 
person  may  conceal  his  ignorance  of  any  other  art — but  every 
time  he  speaks  he  publishes  his  ignorance  of  this.  Other 
arts  may  be  practised  occasionally,  but  the  art  of  speaking 
must  be  practised  continually.  Is  it  not  strange  that  what 
all  must  do  hourly,  few  care  to  do  correctly  ?  There  can  be 
no  greater  imputation  on  the  intelligence  of  any  man,  than 
that  he  should  talk  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb,  and  never 
talk  well. 

It  is  as  necessary  to  get  knowledge  as  to  eat  and  drink. 
You  would  not  ask  another  to  eat  and  drink  for  you.  All 
are  as  well  able  to  learn  as  to  eat,  and  it  is  quite  as  needful. 
Lord  Herbert,  heretofore  quoted,  tells  us  that  'between 
grammar,  logic  and  rhetoric  there  exists  a  close  and  happy 
connection,  which  reigns  through  all  science  and  extends  to 
all  the  powers  of  eloquence.' 

Everybody  knows  what  representation  means  in  politics. 
A  little  thought  of  this  will  save  a  man  from  ordinary  error. 
To  make  things  plain  in  speech  it  only  needs  that  a  man 
makes  up  his  mind  as  to  what  he  is  talking  about.  If  he 
reasons,  let  it  be  not  upon  hearsay,  or  rumour  or  imagination, 

II 


12  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

but  upon  ascertained  facts,  and  he  will  seldom  go  wrong. 
What  is  called  grammar  is  the  same  thing  as  the  Franchise 
Bill.  It  is  simply  the  full  representation  of  the  facts  of  speech. 
Daily  talk  is  of  a  man,  or  of  a  woman,  or  of  a  thing  and 
of  something  they  do.  If  when  we  speak  of  the  man  we 
allude  to  the  man  as  he,  if  we  refer  to  a  woman  we  take 
care  to  say  she,  or  if  we  speak  of  a  thing  we  allude  to  the 
thing  as  it,  we  accord  each  fair  representation.  What  a 
man  or  woman,  or  a  thing  does  is  expressed  by  a  verb.  If 
one  person  does  a  thing  we  say  he  does  it.  If  two  persons 
do  a  thing  we  say  they  do  it.  If  it  be  a  thing  which  acts, 
as  the  sun,  we  say  it  shines.  Just  as  every  voter  at  the  poll 
says,  '  That  is  my  house  on  the  register,  and  I  pay  the  rent 
there,'  so  in  grammar  all  men  and  women  and  things  have 
pronouns  and  verbs  and  delegate  words  which  belong  to 
them,  and  by  which  alone  they  can  be  identified  and  repre- 
sented, and  whoever  gives  them  their  proper  representation 
makes  his  meaning  plain  to  all  men.  Grammar  is  but  the 
universal  suffrage  of  common  sense. 

Inattention  to  conditions  and  care  is  expressed  in  an 
epigram  of  sensible  if  not  elegant  lines  : — 

He  started  with  lect'ring  and  ended  with  verse, 
And  from  first  to  last  got  gradually  worse  ; 
He  wrote  without  spelling,  and  spoke  without  rule, 
Long  declaimed  without  knowledge,  and  ended  a  fool. 

How  different  another,  who  thinks  night  and  day, 
Deciding  what  will  best  become  him  to  say, 
And  how  best  to  say  it  when  he  has  made  up  his  mind  ! 
A  contrast  more  useful  is  not  easy  to  find. 

The  way  in  which  nouns  (which  signify  names)  are  repre- 
sented by  pronouns  (or  fornouns)  is  shown  in  an  admirable 
sentence  of  Dr  Johnson's  : — 

'  Pope  was  not  content  to  satisfy ;  he  desired  to  excel, 
and  therefore  always  endeavoured  to  do  his  best ;  he  did 
not  court  the  candour,  but  dared  the  judgment  of  his  reason, 


REPRESENTATIVE   SPEECH  1 3 

and  expecting  no  indulgence  from  others,  he  showed  none 
to  himself.^ 

Without  the  employment  of  pronouns  the  sentence  would 
read,  with  many  unpleasant  repetitions,  thus : — Pope  was 
not  content  to  satisfy  ;  Pope  desired  to  excel,  and  therefore 
always  endeavoured  to  do  Pope's  best ;  Pope  did  not  court 
the  candour,  but  dared  the  judgment  of  Pope's  reader,  and 
expecting  no  indulgence  from  others,  Pope  showed  none 
to  Pope's  self. 

There  is  the  same  kind  of  representation  in  verbs.  Every 
verb  is  connected  with  or  actuated  by  some  noun  or  pro- 
noun, expressed  or  understood. 

Example : —  Hazlitt  looked  with  despairing  wonder  on 
Burke's  style.  Year  after  year  he  tried  to  write  a  single  essay 
that  should  please  himself.' 

If  we  inquire  here  who  looked  ?  the  answer  is  Hazlitt. 
Who  tried  ?  Hazlitt.  Whenever  a  verb  is  found,  the  actor 
must  be  found  and  both  examined,  to  see  if  the  two  agree, 
for  every  verb  must  be  of  the  same  number,  and  of  the 
same  person,  as  the  noun  or  pronoun  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected, whether  it  be  expressed  or  merely  understood. 

When  this  representation  is  observed,  a  person  is  said  to 
speak  grammatically.     Representation  is  grammar. 

There  may  be  good  speaking  and  writing  with  a  moderate 
knowledge  of  grammar.  One  who  has  authority  in  these 
matters  asks, — '  How  would  some  of  our  fashionable  writers 
stare  if  they  could  read  Thucydides  or  Plato  !  The  best 
authors  had  no  authority  before  them.  Pascal  and  Madame 
de  Sevigne  wrote  before  there  was  any  French  grammar,  I 
believe ;  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  before  there  was  a  Greek 
or  a  Latin  one.' 

When  I  conducted  classes  at  Crutched  Friars,  about  1845, 
I  wrote  and  printed  an  Act  of  Parliament  for  enforcing  the 
Queen's  Enghsh.  Its  clauses  prescribed  the  rules  of  repre- 
sentation I  have  explained. 

Nor  did  I  find  any  difficulty  in  teaching  little  children  to 


14  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

write  little  letters  to  their  parents  in  a  week.  As  soon  as  a 
child  can  make  a  round  O  and  a  straight  line  it  can  make  all 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  A  is  composed  of  three  straight 
lines,  B  of  a  line  and  two  halves  of  O.  A  line  and  half  O 
makes  D.  G  is  O  left  open  with  a  short  Hne.  E  F  H  I  K 
L  M  N  T  V  W  X  Y  Z  are  all  made  of  straight  lines.  J  is  a 
line  and  half  an  O.    P  is  made  the  same  way.    R  is  two  lines 

and  half  an  0.  Q  is  an  O  and  short  line.  S  is  two  halves 
of  O  up  end  on  end.  U  is  made  by  half  an  O  and  two  up- 
right lines.  There  you  have  the  whole  alphabet,  from  which 
a  child  will  select  DEAR  MOTHER  in  an  hour. 
A  Child's  First  Writing  Book  I  published,  made  this  plain 
and  easy  to  hundreds  of  children  fifty  years  ago.  A  child 
will  go  forward  himself  as  soon  as  his  teacher  finds  for  him 
a  beginning,  which  the  little  learner  can  see,  understand, 
and  feel  to  be  within  his  power.  It  is  the  same  with  older 
students  on  the  threshold  of  a  new  subject 


CHAPTER   VI 

LOGIC    OF    EVERY-DAY   LIFE 

The  public  speaker  requires  to  know  something  of  the 
rudiments  of  reasoning,  which  we  may  call  the  logic  of  every- 
day life.  Logic  is  the  basis  of  oratory,  for  no  sensible  man 
is  moved  to  action  unless  he  sees  a  reason  for  it.  Genius 
in  argument  consists  in  seeing  relevancies  and  in  enabhng 
others  to  see  them. 

Natural  pride  in  the  distinction  of  learning  and  the  passion 
for  superiority,  from  which  the  learned  are  not  exempt,  lead 
them  to  decry  all  capacity  outside  their  own,  so  that  common 
sense  is  behttled  and  discouraged,  and  many  never  use  or 
cultivate  the  natural  power  they  have,  and  cease  to  have 
confidence  in  themselves.  All  the  while,  common  sense  is 
the  natural  sense  of  mankind.  It  is  the  product  of  common 
observation  and  experience.  It  is  modest,  plain  and  un- 
sophisticated. It  sees  with  everybody's  eyes  and  hears 
with  everybody's  ears.  It  has  no  capricious  distinction, 
no  perplexities,  and  no  mysteries.  It  never  equivocates 
and  never  trifles.  Its  language  is  always  intelligible.  It  is 
known  by  clearness  of  speech  and  singleness  of  purpose. 
The  most  prudent  of  all  the  children  of  fact,  it  never  forsakes 
nature  or  reason.  Some  outline  laws  for  its  employment  in 
reasoning — if  they  can  be  indicated — must  be  better  than 
a  distrustful,  aimless  and  desultory  use. 

Why,  in  speaking,  should  not  anyone  express  himself  with 

15 


l6  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

grammatical  coherence  and  a  certain  bold  perspicuity,  if 
not  able  to  reach  refinement  and  elegance  ?  Why,  in  pro- 
nunciation, should  ordinary  persons  not  speak  with  a  certain 
manly  openness  of  vowel  sound  and  a  distinct  articulation,  if 
not  with  all  elocutionary  modulation  ?  Why  should  not  their 
discourse  be  expressed  in  brief,  clear  sentences?  If  their 
punctuation  went  no  further  than  placing  capital  letters  at 
the  commencement  of  sentences  and  of  proper  names,  and 
periods  at  the  conclusion  of  sentences,  it  would  render  their 
writing  more  intelligible  than  are  half  the  communications 
they  now  send  to  the  press.  If  they  mastered  only  brevity 
and  abrupt  directness,  and  learned  to  omit  wearying  prolixity, 
they  would  command  a  hearing  in  many  cases  where  now 
they  are  denied  one.  If  in  logic  they  made  a  shrewd 
mastery  of  plain  facts — being  as  sure  as  they  could,  when 
once  set  on  surety,  avoiding  conjecture  and  supposition — 
if  they  followed  the  methods  of  nature  and  good  sense, 
where  the  elaborate  methods  of  art  are  hidden  from  them, 
who  will  not  admit  that  they  would  be  more  intelligible 
than  now,  exercise  power,  and  extort  attention  and  esteem 
where  now  they  excite  compassion,  or  outrage  plain  taste? 
The  people  would  be  enabled  to  do  these  things,  but  that  so 
many,  who  prepare  treatises  for  their  guidance,  alarm  them 
by  the  display  of  abstruse  dissertation  above  their  powers, 
their  means,  their  time,  and  their  wants. 

There  is  less  occasion  to  speak  of  the  utility  of  logic 
than  to  show  it  to  be  easy  of  acquisition.  John  Stuart 
Mill  observes : — '  We  need  not  seek  far  for  a  solution  of  the 
question  so  often  agitated  respecting  the  utility  of  logic.  If 
a  science  of  logic  exists,  or  is  capable  of  existing,  it  must  be 
useful.  If  their  be  rules  to  which  every  mind  conforms  in 
every  instance  in  which  it  judges  rightly,  there  seems  little 
necessity  for  discussing  whether  a  person  is  more  likely  to 
observe  those  rules  when  he  knows  the  rules,  than  when 
he  is  unacquainted  with  them.'  * 

*  System  of  Logic,  p.  I2.     Second  Edition. 


LOGIC   OF   EVERYDAY   LIFE  I7 

Certainly  people  are  not  so  much  prejudiced  against  logic 
on  account  of  its  supposed  uselessness  as  on  account  of 
its  supposed  difficulties.  Logic  has  always  had  a  good 
reputation.  The  popular  impression  has  uniformly  been 
in  its  favour.  It  has  been  valued  like  the  diamond — but 
considered,  Hke  that  precious  stone,  to  be  of  very  uncertain 
access  and  difficult  to  polish,  save  by  experts. 

Common  sense — the  exercise  of  the  judgment  unaided 
by  scholastic  rule — being  the  best  sense  the  untutored  have, 
they  wisely  use  it,  and  no  wonder  if  they  laud  what  they  are 
constrained  to  employ.  Doubtless  they  perceive  that 
common  sense  would  be  the  better  for  being  made  orderly, 
as  a  spirited  horse  is  the  fitter  for  use  after  it  has  been 
'broken.'  If  common  sense  can  be  rendered  disciplined 
sense,  it  will  have  all  the  advantage  of  the  trained  soldier 
over  the  raw  recruit. 

A  few  years  ago,  England  was  interested  in  an  American 
teacher  of  equine  rhetoric,  Mr  Rarey,  who  won  both  money 
and  renown  by  giving  lessons  in  the  art  of  persuading  the 
minds  of  horses.  Dean  Swift,  in  his  Gulliver's  Travels, 
shows  that  the  kingdom  of  horses  is  in  many  respects  a 
more  rational  kingdom  than  the  kingdom  of  men.  The 
horse  is  simple  in  its  taste,  temperate  in  its  habits,  graceful 
in  its  movements,  proud  in  spirit,  and  wary  in  conduct — 
which  is  much  more  than  can  be  said  of  many  men.  Mr 
Rarey  showed  that  he  believed  in  the  reasoning  power  of 
horses,  and  that  it  is  possible  to  persuade  their  minds  to 
good  conduct.  If  horses  can  learn  to  reason,  why  not 
men? 

Reasoning  is  a  simple  business.  To  reason  is  to  state 
revelant  facts  in  support  of  a  proposition.  Reason  is  the 
faculty  of  perceiving  coherences.  Efiective  reasoning  is 
stating  them  so  that  others  cannot  but  see  them  too. 
Reasoning  on  the  abstrusest  questions  consists  in  arriving 
at  a  remote  truth  by  discovering  its  coherence  with  the 
preceding  facts  in  the  same  chain. 


l8  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

A  syllogism  is  a  peculiar  form  of  expression,  in  which 
every  argument  may  be  stated.  It  consists  of  three 
propositions. 

1.  Whoever  have  their  heads  cut  off  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  ask  the  reason  why, 

2.  Women  have  their  heads  cut  off. 

3.  Therefore  women  ought  to  be  allowed  to  ask  (politically 
at  least)  the  reason  why. 

This  is  an  argument  of  Madame  de  Stael  in  the  days  of 
the  first  Napoleon,  in  allusion  to  the  beheading  of  wom.en 
in  France,  without  allowing  them  any  voice  in  making  the 
laws  which  determine  the  offences  for  which  they  suffered. 

A  syllogism  is  constructed  upon  the  principle  (known  as 
the  Dictum  of  Aristotle)  that  whatever  is  affirmed  or  denied 
universally  of  a  whole  class  of  things,  may  be  affirmed  or 
denied  of  anything  comprehended  in  that  class.  Thus,  the 
first  proposition  introduces  the  class  of  persons  who  have 
their  heads  cut  off.  Of  this  class  it  is  affirmed  that  they 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  ask  the  reason  why.  But  women 
are  included  in  the  class  of  persons  who  have  their  heads 
cut  off,  and  consequently  that  may  be  affirmed  of  them 
which  is  affirmed  of  the  whole  class,  when  the  conclusion  is 
— that  they  should  be  allowed  to  ask  the  reason  why. 

Logic  may  be  defined  as  the  art  of  recognising,  stating 
and  testing  truth.  To  make  a  truth  plain  it  is  put  in 
the  form  of  a  syllogism.  All  men  have  common  sense. 
Peter  Luton  is  a  man.  Therefore  Peter  Luton  has  common 
sense.  Now  Peter  may  be  a  known  idiot,  but  the  syllogism 
is  true.  The  logic  of  the  schools  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  truth  of  the  facts,  opinions,  or  presumptions,  from  which 
an  inference  is  derived ;  but  simply  takes  care  that  the 
inference  shall  certainly  he  true  if  the  premises  be  true. 
But  the  chief  premise  in  the  syllogism  given  is  not  true — 
that  all  men  have  common  sense,  and  therefore  the  infer- 
ence is  not  true  that  Peter  Luton  has  common  sense. 

This  is  the  point  that  the  reader  should  consider.     It 


LOGIC   OF   EVERYDAY   LIFE  1 9 

was  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  I  think,  who  said  that  '  men  fall 
into  a  thousand  errors  by  reasoning  from  false  premises  to 
fifty  they  make  by  wrong  inferences  from  premises  they 
employ.'  The  late  Professor  Jowett  is  reported  to  have 
said  that  '  logic  is  neither  an  art  nor  a  science,  but  a  dodge.' 
It  is  little  better  than  a  'dodge'  when  it  is  confined  to 
making  inferences  from  premises  not  known  to  be  true. 
An  assertion  that  represents  things  as  they  really  are,  is  a 
truth — an  assertion  that  represents  things  as  in  reality 
they  are  not,  is  a  falsehood.  Truth,  in  sculpture,  means  an 
exact  similitude  of  some  living  form,  chiselled  in  stone  or 
marble.  Truth,  in  painting,  is  a  natural  representation  on 
canvas,  or  otherwise,  of  some  person  or  object.  In  the 
same  manner,  moral  truth  is  an  exact  image  of  things  set 
forth  in  speech  or  writing.  The  logical  definition  of  truth 
is  given  in  these  words  : — '  Truth  is  that  which  admits  of 
proof,'  that  is,  an  assertion  or  denial  which  can  be  sub- 
stantiated by  facts. 

Tyranny,  says  Cobbett,  has  no  enemy  so  formidable  as 
the  pen.  Why  ?  '  Because  the  pen  pursues  tyranny  both 
in  life  and  beyond  the  grave.'  How  is  it  proved  to  be 
the  most  formidable  enemy  of  tyranny?  From  the  fact 
that  tyranny  has  no  enemy  so  formidable  as  that  which 
assails  not  only  its  existence,  but  its  reputation,  which  may 
pursue  it  in  life  and  beyond  the  grave.  Such  interroga- 
tories and  replies  generate  the  syllogistic  form  thus : — 

1.  Tyranny  has  no  enemy  so  formidable  as  that  which 
may  assail  not  only  its  existence,  but  its  reputation,  which 
may  pursue  it  in  life  and  beyond  the  grave. 

2.  The  pen  may  pursue  tyranny  in  life  and  beyond  the 
grave. 

3.  Therefore,  tyranny  has  no  enemy  so  formidable  as  the 
pen. 

Syllogism  need  not  begin  with  a  universal  proposition. 
But  care  must  be  taken  not  to  draw  an  infinite  conclusion 
from  finite  premises. 


20  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

In  the  following  syllogism  the  chief  proposition  is  limited : 

Aristides  was  virtuous, 
Aristides  was  a  pagan, 

therefore 
Some  pagan  was  virtuous. 

The  inference  is  limited.     The   proof  is   that   some   one 
pagan  was  virtuous. 

Induction — a  mode  of  logic  which  Bacon  established — 
means  reasoning  from  facts.  A  proposition  is  concluded  to 
be  true  when  the  number  of  facts  relevant  to  it  and  in 
favour  of  it  greatly  exceed  all  the  known  facts  against  it. 
But  the  quality  of  the  facts  as  well  as  the  number  must  be 
carefully  weighed.  "When  a  lady  once  consulted  Dr  Johnson 
on  the  degree  of  turpitude  to  be  attached  to  her  son's 
robbing  an  orchard — 'Madam,'  said  Johnson,  'it  all  de- 
pends upon  the  weight  of  the  boy.  I  remember  my  school- 
fellow, Davy  Garrick,  who  was  always  a  little  fellow,  robbing 
a  dozen  orchards  with  impunity,  but  the  very  first  time  I 
climbed  up  an  apple  tree,  for  I  was  always  a  heavy  boy,  the 
bough  broke  with  me,  and  it  was  called  a  judgment.  I 
suppose  that  is  why  Justice  is  represented  with  a  pair  of 
scales.'  This  may  not  be  the  precise  reason  why  Justice 
has  a  pair  of  scales,  but  the  point  goes  to  the  root  of  the 
matter.  Without  weighing  there  can  be  neither  justice  nor 
fair  induction.  When  Ali  Pacha  was  at  Janina,  the  case  of 
a  poor  woman,  who  accused  a  man  of  the  theft  of  all  her 
property,  was  brought  before  him  ;  but  the  woman  having 
no  witnesses,  the  case  was  discharged,  as  the  man  asserted 
his  innocence,  and  insisted,  as  a  proof,  that  he  had  not  a 
farthing  in  the  world.  On  their  leaving  his  presence,  Ali 
ordered  both  to  be  weighed,  and  then  released  them  without 
further  notice.  A  fortnight  afterwards  he  commanded  both 
into  his  presence,  and  again  weighed  them ;  the  woman  had 
lost  as  much  as  the  man  had  gained  in  weight,  and  Ali 
decided  that  the  accusation  was  just.     Ali  Pacha  was  the 


LOGIC   OF    EVERYDAY   LIFE  21 

Burlamlqui  of  justice;  Burlamiqui  was  a  writer  on  logic,  who 
insisted  on  attention  being  given  to  the  preponderance  of 
relevant  facts. 

In  the  case  of  the  Leigh  Peerage  a  number  of  witnesses 
were  examined  in  the  House  of  Lords  as  to  the  existence  of 
a  certain  monument  in  Stonely  Church — '  The  first  witness 
described  the  monument  as  being  black ;  the  second  spoke 
of  it  as  a  kind  of  dove-colour ;  the  third  said  it  was  black 
and  white ;  the  fourth  said  it  was  originally  white,  but  dirty, 
when  he  saw  it ;  the  fifth,  differing  from  the  others,  said  it 
was  blue ;  the  next  witness  described  it  as  a  light  marble, 
but  said  it  had  a  dark  appearance  as  if  it  had  been  bronzed ; 
and  the  last  witness  spoke  of  it  as  being  of  a  light  grey  colour. 
Then,  as  to  the  form  of  the  monument,  the  first  witness  said 
it  was  oblong  ;  the  next  said  it  was  square  at  the  top,  and 
came  down  narrower  to  the  bottom,  and  there  rested  on  a 
single  truss  ;  the  third  witness  described  it  as  being  square 
at  the  bottom,  resting  upon  two  trusses,  and  went  up  narrower 
and  narrower  to  a  point  at  the  top ;  the  fourth  witness  said 
it  was  angular  at  the  top  ;  the  next  said  it  was  square  at  the 
bottom,  was  brought  to  a  point  in  the  middle,  and  was  then 
curved  into  a  sort  of  festoon ;  the  sixth  witness  stated  that  it 
was  square  at  the  top  and  bottom,  and  had  a  curve ;  and  the 
last  said  it  was  square  at  the  top  and  bottom.  As  to  the 
language  of  the  inscriptions,  the  first  witness  stated  that  the 
names  of  Thomas  and  Christopher  Leigh  were  in  English  ; 
the  next  said  the  inscription  was  not  in  English ;  the  third 
said  there  was  a  great  deal  in  English  ;  the  fourth  witness 
said  the  whole  (with  the  exception  of  the  name  Christopher 
Leigh)  was  in  a  language  which  he  did  not  understand  ;  the 
next  witness  stated  that  the  inscription  was  all  in  English, 
except  the  words  An?io  Dommi  ;  and  the  last  witness  said  it 
was  not  in  English,' 

All  these  witnesses  agree  as  to  the  fact  in  dispute,  but 
their  variances  in  testimony  illustrate  the  common  inattention 
of  observation  and  indistinctness  of  memory  j  and  this  case 


22  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

further  admonishes  us  that  if  such  differences  may  exist  as 
to  a  question  of  fact,  Uttle  wonder  that  differences  exist  as  to 
matters  of  opinion,  where  intellectual  capacity  and  informa- 
tion are  so  various. 

If  a  man  looks  well  to  the  truth  of  the  premises  from 
which  he  reasons,  he  will  never  go  far  wrong.  When  Pope, 
in  a  moment  of  aberration,  wrote, — 

Be  not  the  first  by  whom  the  new  is  tried. 
Nor  yet  the  last  to  lay  the  old  aside, 

it  only  wants  common  sense — and  not  much  of  that — to  see 
that  if  all  men  act  on  this  advice,  no  one  will  ever  try  a  new 
thing  or  leave  off  an  old  one,  and  the  world  would  stand  still. , 

A  few  years  ago,  a  distinguished  clergyman  of  the  Univer- 
salist  denomination  was  accused,  while  in  Lowell,  of  'violently 
dragging  his  wife  from  a  revival  meeting,  and  compelling  her 
to  go  home  with  him.'  He  replied  :  '  Firstly,  I  have  never 
attempted  to  influence  my  wife  in  her  views,  nor  her  choice 
of  a  meeting  ;  secondly,  my  wife  has  not  attended  any  of  the 
revival  meetings  for  any  purpose  whatever ;  thirdly,  I  never 
on  any  occasion  forbade  my  wife  to  attend  a  revival  meet- 
ing ;  fourthly,  neither  my  wife  nor  myself  have  any  inclina- 
tion to  attend  those  meetings ;  and  fifthly,  I  never  had  a 
wife.' 

This  is  a  fair  example  of  confutation  without  creating 
satisfaction.  The  clergyman  gave  a  technical  answer.  The 
questioner  assumed  that  the  lady  they  had  in  their  minds 
was  his  wife.  She  may  have  been  his  sister,  or  niece,  or 
housekeeper,  or  relative  in  his  house,  over  whom  he  had 
control — and  used  it.  He  would  have  been  more  instructive 
and  given  more  satisfaction  had  he  denied  having  interfered 
or  sought  to  control  anyone  attending  the  meeting  in  ques- 
tion. Though  he  had  *  no  desire  to  attend  '  such  place,  he 
may  have  been  there  all  the  same.  He  merely  fenced  with 
his  reply,  which  is  clever  but  not  creditable. 

Imagine  a  tramcar  director,  waited  upon  by  persons  who 


LOGIC   OF   EVERYDAY   LIFE  23 

want  to  know  whether  the  new  car  would  leave  at  the  usual 
time,  and  take  up  passengers  at  the  usual  places,  who  should 
answer  : — Firstly,  we  have  no  'new  car,'  and  never  had; 
secondly,  we  do  not  leave  at  the  *  usual  time ' ;  thirdly,  we 
do  not  'take  up  passengers,'  that  is  the  business  of  the 
police ;  fourthly,  we  have  no  '  usual  places.'  This  would  be 
a  good  technical  reply  of  the  official  type.  But  having 
regard  to  the  interests  of  the  company,  he  would  explain  that 
they  had  taken  over  the  rolling  stock  of  another  company, 
and  had  built  no  'new  car'  themselves;  the  'usual  time' 
was  now  a  quarter  of  an  hour  earlier ;  that  passengers  '  step 
up '  into  the  car,  are  not  '  taken  up ' ;  and  that  they  now 
stop  for  passengers  wherever  hailed.  The  representative  of 
an  interest  is  communicative  and  explanatory,  why  not  the 
representative  of  truth  ? 

The  schoolmen,  by  teaching  that  logic  has  only  to  do  with 
inferences,  and  that  if  the  inference  is  true,  the  thing  reasoned 
upon  has  to  be  accepted,  have  caused  great  superstitions  to 
have  long  life  in  the  world.  He  who  begins  to  reason  with- 
out knowing  what  from,  is  trying  to  get  a  living  inference  out 
of  dead  premises.  Be  sure  your  premises  are  alive,  or  your 
inferences  will  smell  like  stale  fish  when  brought  into  the 
market  of  debate. 

Man  should  begin  with  himself.  He  loves  truth — it  is 
the  first  impulse  of  his  nature.  He  loves  justice — the 
bandit  on  the  throne,  as  well  as  the  bandit  in  the  forest, 
respects  justice  in  some  form  or  other.  Man  loves  cheer- 
fulness— it  is  the  attribute  of  innocence  and  courage.  He 
loves  fraternity — it  knits  society  together  in  brotherhood. 
These  are  standards  in  the  mind  of  him  who  thinks.  His 
codes  of  life  and  judgment  arise  therefrom.  That  which  ac- 
cords with  these  principles  is  reasonable.  Whatever  develops 
these  principles  in  conduct  is  moral.  These  sentiments  are 
to  be  confirmed  by  his  own  observations.  His  experi- 
ence in  connection  with  these  rules  is  the  light  with  which 
he  may  examine  religions,  creeds,  books,  systems,  opinions. 


24  PUBLIC  SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Pope,  one  of  the  few  poets  who  had  logic  in  his  bones, 


writes : — 


Say  first  of  God  above  or  man  below, 

What  can  we  reason  but  from  what  we  know  ? 

Definition  is  the  soul  of  argument,  and  therefore  attention 
must  be  paid  to  it.  Definition  originates  in  accurate  and 
comprehensive  observation.  '  There  cannot  be,'  says  Mill, 
*  agreement  about  the  definition  of  a  thing,  until  there  is 
agreement  about  the  thing  itself.  To  define  a  thbig  is  to 
select  from  among  the  whole  of  its  properties  those  which  shall 
be  understood  to  be  designated  atid  declared  by  its  name  ;  and 
the  properties  must  be  very  well  known  to  us  before  we  can 
be  competent  to  determine  which  of  them  are  fittest  to  be 
chosen  for  this  purpose.' 

To  define  a  thing,  says  Dr  Watts,  we  must  '  ascertain  with 
what  it  agrees,  then  note  the  most  remarkable  attribute  of 
difference,  and  join  the  two  together.'  In  fact,  a  valid 
definition  selects   that   particular   in   which    the   thing   in 

question  differs  from  every  other.     So  that  it   cannot  be 

confounded  with  any  other. 

Every  man  of  common  sense  can  tell  upon  reflection  what 

course  of  conduct  would  be  useful  if  all  men  followed  it. 

At  least,  in  affairs  of  daily  life  men  can  tell  this,  and  in  affairs 

of  public  life  considering  the  effect  of  a  thing  upon  society 

is   a  good  guide.     Dumont   puts  this  very  clearly  in  the 

following  questions : — 

*  What  is  it  to  give  a  good  reason  for  a  law  ?     It  is  to 

show  the  good  and  the  evil  which  that  law  tends  to  produce ; 

so  much  good,  so  much  argument  in  its  favour ;  so  much 

evil,  so  much  argument  against  it.' 

'  What  is  it  to  give  a  bad  reason  ?     It  is  to  allege  for  or 

against  a  law,  any  other  thing  than  its  effects,  whether  good 

or  evil.' 

'  Nothing  more  simple ;  yet  nothing  more  new.     It  is  not 

the  principle  of  utility  which  is  new ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  of 


LOGIC   OF   EVERYDAY   LIFE  2$ 

necessity  as  ancient  as  the  race  of  man.  Whatever  there  is 
of  truth  in  morals,  whatever  there  is  of  good  in  law,  proceeds 
from  this  principle.' 

There  are  five  things  which  young  logicians  mistake  for 
reasons  : — (i)  Antiquity  of  a  thing  is  not  a  reason,  because 
mankind  were  never  infallible.  (2)  Religious  authority  is 
not  a  reason,  for  in  every  nation  it  has  often  been  in  the 
wrong.  (3)  Disowning  innovation  is  not  a  reason,  for  to 
reject  all  innovation  is  to  reject  all  improvement.  (4) 
Arbitrary  definition  is  not  a  reason,  for  using  a  word  in  a 
sense  it  has  not  been  used  in  before,  it  bewilders  the  reader 
or  hearer  by  an  appearance  of  depth  and  subtlety  which  is 
unreal.  {5)  Metaphor  or  analogy  is  not  a  reason,  they 
illustrate  an  argument  but  do  not  make  one. 

There  are  three  maxims  in  law  which  may  be  usefully 
remembered  in  reasoning: — (i)  Words  spoken  of  one 
thing  ought  not  to  be  perverted  to  another.  (2)  He  who 
does  not  truly  speak  the  truth  is  a  betrayer  of  truth.  (3) 
Contradictions  cannot  be  brought  into  being. 


CHAPTER    VII 

DELIVERY 

Delivery  relates  primarily  to  ease,  audibility,  and  expres- 
siveness of  speaking.  Expressiveness  includes  fervour  and 
gesture.  But  fervour  and  gesture  belong  to  natural  passion 
rather  than  to  care  and  skill. 

Delivery  is  a  carrier's  term,  and  sounds  too  mechanical 
for  elocution ;  nevertheless,  a  speech  is  a  delivery  of 
information  or  incentive,  and  the  manner  of  it  is  important. 
Delivery  is,  in  fact,  elocution  in  practice.  Vigorous, 
sonorous  delivery  is  called  declamation.  The  speech 
of  Brutus,  defending  the  assassination  of  Cassar,  or  that 
of  Anthony  denouncing  it,  are  declaimed  on  the  stage. 
Declamation  is  also  applied  to  speech  pompously  spoken 
without  adequate  force  of  sense — to  propositions  daring  in 
sound  but  meek  in  proof.  Oriental  speech  is  generally 
graceful  and  fascinating  declamation  —  ornament  without 
profit.  Paul's  famous  declamation  on  charity  includes  no 
reason  why  anyone  should  have  charity.  Many  contrive  to 
do  very  well  without  it.  Its  beauty,  its  eminence  as  a  virtue, 
the  apostle  excels  in  setting  forth.  It  remained  for  Richard 
Hooker  sixteen  centuries  later  to  show  how  much  more  any 
man  needs  the  charity  of  all  men,  than  that  all  men  need  the 
charity  of  any  one  man,  and  that  it  is  therefore  prudent  to 
establish  a  claim  to  the  good-will  of  the  world  by  showing 
good-will  towards  it.  This  is  the  reason  which  commends 
charity  as  a  civil  policy,  were  it  not  a  principle  of  justice. 

26 


DELIVERY  27 

So  much  describes  declamation  intrinsically  as  regards 
matter.  As  respects  manner,  declamation  means  the  loud, 
vigorous,  impetuous  utterance  of  resounding  sentences. 
But  force  in  delivery  may  be  obtained  in  other  ways — where 
there  is  mind  behind  the  words. 

The  Rev.  Robert  Hall,  whose  talent  for  speaking  was  such 
that,  when  eleven  years  old,  he  was  set  up  to  preach  ex- 
tempore to  a  select  auditory  of  full-grown  men,  says  of  him- 
self :  '  To  me  to  speak  slow  was  ruin.  You  know,  sir,  that 
force  or  momentum  is  conjointly  as  the  body  and  the 
velocity ;  therefore,  as  my  voice  is  feeble,  what  is  wanted  in 
body  must  be  made  up  in  velocity.'  This  is  a  mathematical 
figure  of  speech,  and  is  more  true  of  dynamics  than  rhetoric. 
Hall's  remark  has  misled  many  young  speakers.  Unless 
there  is  strength  of  voice  to  sustain  the  momentum  imparted, 
indistinctness  and  alternations  of  screechings  and  whispers 
will  be  the  result. 

Some  years  ago,  we  had  in  Parliament  a  momentum 
speaker  of  no  mean  repute.  It  is  said  of  Mr  Macaulay  (I 
think  by  Francis,  in  his  Orators  of  the  Age),  that  when  an 
opening  is  made  in  a  discussion  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
he  rises,  or  rather  darts  up  from  his  seat,  and  plunges  at 
once  into  the  very  heart  of  his  subject  without  exordium  or 
apologetic  preface.  In  fact,  you  have  for  a  few  seconds  a 
high-pitched  voice,  monotonous  and  rather  shrill,  pouring 
forth  words  with  inconceivable  velocity  ere  you  have  become 
aware  that  a  new  speaker,  and  one  of  no  common  order,  has 
broken  in  upon  the  debate.  A  few  seconds  more  and 
cheers,  perhaps  from  all  parts  of  the  house,  rouse  you  com- 
pletely from  your  apathy,  compelling  you  to  follow  that  ex- 
tremely voluble  and  not  very  enticing  voice  in  its  rapid  course 
through  the  subject  on  which  the  speaker  is  entering,  with 
a  resolute  determination,  as  it  seems,  never  to  pause.  You 
think  of  an  express  train  which  does  not  stop  even  at  the  chief 
stations.  On,  on  Macaulay  speeds,  in  full  reliance  on  his  own 
momentum,  never  stopping  for  words,  never  stopping  for 


28  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

thoughts,  never  halting  for  an  instant  even  to  take  breath, 
his  intellect  gathering  new  vigour  as  it  proceeds,  hauling  the 
subject  after  him  and  all  its  possible  attributes  and  illustra- 
tions, with  the  strength  of  a  giant,  leaving  a  line  of  light  on 
the  pathway  his  mind  has  trod,  till,  unexhausted  and 
apparently  inexhaustible,  he  brings  his  remarkable  effort 
to  a  close  by  a  peroration  so  highly  sustained  in  its  de- 
clamatory power,  so  abounding  in  illustration,  so  admirably 
framed  to  crown  and  clench  the  whole  oration,  that  surprise, 
if  it  has  even  begun  to  wear  off,  kindles  anew,  and  the 
hearer  is  left  prostrate  by  the  whirlwind  of  ideas  and 
emotions  which  has  swept  over  him.  A  man  may  take  this 
liberty  with  elocution  if  he  has  genius  to  compensate  for  it. 
That  member  must  beware  who  attempts  to  charm  the 
House  of  Commons  by  a  monotonous  tone  without 
Macaulay's  wit,  his  power  of  enlightenment  and  amazing 
fecundity  of  illustration. 

In  some  persons  real  power  of  speaking  is  marred  by  a 
physical  peculiarity,  as  in  the  case  of  the  late  Lord  Derby, 
which  cannot  be  overcome  by  any  device.  A  weak  voice  may 
be  made  stronger  by  exercise ;  stammering  may  be  mitigated 
as  it  is  said  Demosthenes  did  in  his  case,  by  declaiming 
with  stones  in  his  mouth  ;  but  a  husky  voice  is  incorrigible. 

Lord  Rosebery  remarks  of  Pitt  that  'unfriendly  critics 
said  that  his  voice  sounded  as  if  he  had  worsted  in  his 
mouth ;  but  the  general  testimony  is  that  it  was  rich  and 
sonorous.'  Pitt's  voice  when  animated  rose  to  sonorous- 
ness, but  he  must  have  had  worsted  moments.  Not  even 
'  unfriendly  critics '  would  invent  a  peculiarity  which  would 
be  confuted  five  nights  a  week.  Such  a  voice  is  not  a  de- 
fect of  oratory ;  where  it  exists,  it  is  a  defect  of  nature — still 
a  disadvantage.  Mr  Goschen  speaks  as  though  he  had  once 
been  a  pedlar  of  worsted,  and  had  accidentally  swallowed  a 
ball ;  or  had  suffered  from  a  cold  in  the  throat  when  young, 
and  the  flannel  intended  to  encase  it  had  been  inadvertently 
put  inside  instead  of  out.     This  filamentariness  of  speech  im- 


DELIVERY  ■  29 

parts  a  woollen  effect  to  many  wise  things  he  says.  There 
are  times  when  Mr  Goschen's  impassioned  tones  expand  into 
the  volume  of  the  fog-horn,  when  their  impressiveness 
effaces  all  sense  of  defect. 

Others  have  natural  advantages.  Lord  Coleridge  had 
deliberateness  of  speech,  and,  like  Lord  Westbury,  was 
unresting  and  unerring  in  his  choice  of  terms.  When 
Lord  Coleridge,  then  Sir  John  Duke  Coleridge,  first  spoke 
in  the  Commons,  his  tones  filled  the  House  with  the  silvery 
accents  of  a  lute.  Sir  John  Bowring  says,  '  The  Chinese 
shoot  arrows  to  which  a  musical  pipe  is  attached,  and  when 
launched,  sing  in  the  air.'  That  describes  Lord  Coleridge's 
sentences. 

Some  orators  of  mark  on  the  political  platform  suffer 
their  voice  to  fall  at  the  closing  words  of  a  sentence — 
though  in  the  last  words  lie  the  whole  point  they  intend. 
Great  is  the  disappointment  of  hearers  who  lose  interest 
in  an  argument  incompletely  made  known  to  them.  The 
cleverer  a  speaker  is  the  more  surely  the  sting  of  his  mean- 
ing will  be  in  the  tail  of  sentences  of  importance.  What 
does  he  speak  for  save  to  make  that  word  clear  ?  Yet  he 
will  drop  his  voice  just  there.  Just  as  a  man  seldom  writes 
his  own  name  plainly  because,  knowing  it  himself,  he  con- 
cludes all  other  persons  know  it.  Yet  a  proper  name 
obscurely  written,  like  an  argument  whose  culmination  is 
undisclosed,  no  one  can  certainly  make  out.  This  negli- 
gence in  speaking  is  counted  defective  elocution.  There 
is  a  vanishing  point  in  art,  but  none  in  sentences. 

Droll  misapprehensions  through  indistinctness  of  utterance 
or  neglect  of  emphasis,  are  familiar  to  every  reader.  There 
is  the  case  of  the  archdeacon,  whose  housemaid  gave  notice 
to  leave  because  she  was  held  up  to  detestation  every  day 
in  the  morning  prayers.  The  archdeacon  read  with  the 
slovenly  indistinctness  common  with  some  Churchmen,  the 
words,  '  O  Lord,  who  hatest  nothing  that  Thou  hast  made,' 
sounded  thus  :  '  O  Lord,  who  hate&t  nothing  but  the  shone- 


30  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

maid ;  and  Mary,  with  her  honest  red  elbows,  said  she 
would  stand  it  no  longer. 

A  clergyman,  who  denied  that  emphasis  was  proper  in 
the  pulpit,  one  day  found  his  mistake  by  the  smiles  of  his 
congregation,  on  his  reading  the  text :  '  And  he  spake  to 
his  sons,  saying;  "Saddle  me,  the  ass,  and  they  saddled 
him.''^ '  He  would  have  made  the  meaning  clear  had  he, 
instead  of  'saddled  him,'  said  'saddled  the  ass.'  A  man 
whom  he  reprimanded  for  swearing,  replied  that  he  did  not 
see  any  harm  in  it.  '  No  harm  in  it  ? '  said  the  minister. 
'Why,  do  you  not  know  the  commandment  "  Swear  not  at 
a//?  " '  'I  do  not  swear  at  a//,'  said  the  man,  '  I  only  swear 
at  those  who  annoy  me.' 

The  emphasis  which  is  suggested  by  the  sense  is  the  best 
guide.  Let  a  person  make  sure  of  the  sense  and  his 
emphasis  will  be  natural  and  varied.  By  natural  is  meant 
gi\dng  the  chief  force  to  those  words  upon  which  the  mean- 
ing turns.  For  instance,  in  so  simple  a  phrase  as  '  Come 
here.'  If  you  wanted  the  person  to  come,  and  he  would 
not,  the  speaker  would  throw  a  tone  of  entreaty  into  the 
word  co7Ne  :  but  if  the  person  spoken  to  did  not  understand 
where  he  was  to  come  to,  and  the  speaker  wanted  him 
where  he  stood,  he  would  put  distinctness  and  force  into 
the  word  here.  But  more  of  this  in  another  chapter. 
'  Sufficient  unto  the  place — is  the  evil  thereof?' 

Attracted  by  the  pretensions  of  a  placard,  adorned  by  a 
testimonial  from  the  Times,  I  went,  in  Glasgow,  to  hear 
some  professional  recitations.  One  of  them  was  the  '  Story 
of  a  Broken  Heart.'  The  unfortunate  girl,  of  whom  it  was 
told,  did  not  die  immediately,  but  it  struck  me  she  would 
have  done  so  had  she  heard  Mr  Wilson  recite  her  story. 
The  subject  was  that  piece  of  graceful  effeminacy,  in  which 
Washington  Irving  has  told  the  story  of  the  proud  love  of 
the  daughter  of  Curran  for  the  unhappy  and  heroic  Emmet. 

No  one  can  recite  with  propriety  what  he  does  not  feel, 
and  the  key  to  gesture  as  well  as  to  modulation  is  earnest- 


DELIVERY  31 

ness.  No  actor  can  portray  character  \nth  truth  unless  he 
can  realise  it,  and  he  can  only  realise  it  by  conceiving  it  for 
a  time  his  own.  It  is  said  of  one  of  the  Kembles  that  his 
daughter  had  been  forbidden  to  marry  an  actor,  and  her 
father  was  inexorable  at  her  disobedience ;  but  after  he  had 
seen  her  husband  upon  the  stage,  he  relented,  and  forgave 
her  with  this  observation,  '  Well,  well !  I  see  you  have  not 
disobeyed  me  after  all ;  for  the  man  is  not,  and  never  will 
be,  an  actor.' 

The  prompting  of  Lucio  to  Isabel,  when  pleading  before 
Angelo  for  the  life  of  her  brother,  as  rendered  by  Shake- 
speare in  'Measure  for  Measure,'  is  one  of  the  happiest 
practical  lessons  in  the  art  of  persuasion  on  record.  As  a 
piece  of  perceptive  teaching,  neither  the  rhetoric  of  modem 
or  of  ancient  times,  so  far  as  I  have  knowledge,  has 
produced  anything  so  wise,  so  concise,  and  yet  so  com- 
prehensive, as  Hamlet's  directions  to  his  players.  It  is  a 
manual  of  delivery  in  miniature. 

Do  manners  matter?  is  a  question  a  public  speaker 
should  put  to  himself.  In  social  life,  those  who  affect  to 
despise  manners  as  too  superfine  for  persons  of  their  manly 
taste,  forget  that  every  man  has  manners — good  or  bad.  A 
good  manner  is  but  art  in  doing  what  you  have  to  do  with 
consideration  for  others.  A  tone  means  much.  Even 
laughter  is  an  art.  Some  women  laugh  like  joy.  Some 
laugh  like  a  peal  of  bells.  Others  laugh  and  you  feel  worse 
for  having  heard  them.  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  tofie  in  the 
world?  One  would  think  not  when  we  hear  men  cry 
'  Matter  not  manner.'  A  man  shall  hate  his  friend,  not  for 
what  he  says  but  for  the  imperious  tone  in  which  he  says  it. 
How  many  malevolent  purposes  have  been  changed  by  a 
kindly  spoken  word ;  how  many  hearts  have  been  broken 
by  unkind  tones. 

There  are  tones,  whatever  their  purport  may  be,  so  en- 
chanting that  no  ear  would  willingly  forget  them.  Yet  tone 
is  a  matter  of  manner.     All   manner  is  but  policy  in  the 


32  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

sense  of  being  a  chosen  line  of  action.  Manner  is  the  half 
of  life.  Without  some  refinement  of  manner  life  would  not 
be  worth  having.  Dress  to  the  gentleman,  skill  to  the 
workman,  discipline  to  the  soldier,  knowledge  to  all — is 
manner.  Grammar  is  manner  of  speech ;  poetry  is  manner 
of  expression ;  rhetoric  is  the  manner  of  the  passions ;  art 
the  manner  of  genius. 

Daily  watchfulness  in  speech  is  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance. Ordinary  conversation  should  be  well  and  clearly 
spoken — whether  a  question,  an  answer,  or  an  anecdote ; 
every  word  should  be  carefully  said.  Lord  Wolseley  wisely 
counselled  English  officers  in  command  of  Zulu  or  Indian 
troops,  not  to  conclude  that  they  were  stupid  or  wilful 
because  they  disobeyed  orders,  unless  they  were  quite  sure 
the  soldiers  understood  what  was  said  to  them.  The 
stupidity  might  be  on  the  part  of  the  officer  who  was  in- 
capable of  making  himself  understood. 

Habitually  audible  and  accurate  speech  will  make  it  easy 
to  speak  in  public.  What  anyone  does  well  in  daily  life,  he 
will  do  well  in  public,  and  have  confidence  that  he  can  do  it 
well.  Well  or  ill,  everybody  is  making  short  speeches  in 
business  or  conversation,  and  a  public  speech  is  but  the 
expansion  or  multiplication  of  short  speeches. 

No  one  has  a  right  to  speak  unless  he  has  something  to 
say,  and  he  has  no  right  to  say  it  publicly  unless  it  is 
publicly  important,  and  what  it  is  publicly  important  to  say 
should  be  said  so  distinctly  and  audibly  that  the  public 
present  can  hear  it. 

Deliberation  in  delivery  is  more  difficult  to  acquire  or 
maintain  than  in  former  times.  The  world  has  been  hurried 
by  railways.  They  have  originated  a  murderous  punctu- 
ality in  order  to  accelerate  business.  More  deaths  occur  at 
railway  stations  through  hurry  to  arrive  there,  than  on  all 
the  coaches  by  the  old  and  tardy  traffic. 

Public  meetings,  as  a  rule,  have  neither  order  nor  limit. 
Everybody  is  held  to  have  a  right  to  speak  now  a  meeting 


DELIVERY  33 

may  number  30,000,  as  everyone  had  when  a  pubhc  meet- 
ing seldom  numbered  300.  Now,  too  many  resolutions  are 
proposed,  too  many  speakers  appear,  and  speaking  is  hurried. 

Lord  Palmerston  was  a  speaker  who  knew  the  value  of 
taking  time.  Once,  at  Tiverton,  a  vehement  electoral 
opponent  inquired  whether  he  would  give  a  plain  answer  to 
a  plain  question.  To  this  Lord  Palmerston  assented.  The 
question  was — Would  he  vote  for  a  Radical  measure  of  re- 
form ?  Palmerston  at  once  answered :  '  I  will ' — pausing, 
while  the  Liberals  cheered — then  adding,  '  not,'  whereupon 
the  Conservatives  applauded ;  waiting  until  they  had  done, 
Palmerston  continued,  '  tell  you ; '  when  the  wily  and  evasive 
candidate  retired  amid  laughter  and  distrust  all  round. 

Without  deliberateness,  self-possession  is  unattainable,  and 
self-possession  alone  sometimes  makes  the  fortune  of  a 
speech;  and  if  it  does  not,  it  conduces  to  the  repute  of 
the  speaker. 

I  have  seen  Mr  John  Stuart  Mill  in  the  House  of 
Commons  pause  in  an  argument  until  the  sequence 
occurred  to  him.  The  House  would  wait,  as  Mill's  words 
were  chosen.  I  have  noticed  Lord  John  Russell  pause 
when  the  word  he  wanted  did  not  occur  to  him.  One 
night  his  son.  Lord  Amberley,  paused  twice  in  a  short,  wise 
speech,  for  the  same  reason.  Being  acquainted  with  him, 
1  congratulated  him  upon  the  promise  he  gave  of  being  a 
Parliamentary  speaker,  through  self-possession,  and  the 
courage  which  waited  for  accuracy.  A  speaker  should  pro- 
vide less  to  say  than  he  might  say  at  his  ordinary  rate  of 
speaking,  so  that  he  must  fill  the  time  allotted  to  him  by 
more  deliberation  and  emphasis.  Between  deliberate,  full- 
toned,  and  energetic  speaking,  and  feeble,  indistinct  and 
spiritless  utterances,  there  is  the  difference  of  live  and  dead 
oratory.  A  certain  energy  in  delivery — which  prevents 
drawling,  and  a  slowness  that  avoids  whirling  accents,  or 
clipping  half  the  sounds  away,  as  hasty  speaking  does — 
are  conditions  of  elocution.     A  speaker  should  take  time  to 

c 


34  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

utter  well,  speak   trippingly  without   tripping.     If   anyone 

must  be  extreme,  he  had  better  be  heavy  than  hasty.     A 

slowness  carried  too  far  would  produce  tedium,  but  without 

a  certain  slowness  there  can  be  no  distinctness,  nor   will 

there  be  time  for  the  speaker  to  think  and  for  the  auditors 

to  apprehend  the  speaker's  meaning. 

It  could  never  be  meant  that  people  should  rush  through 

this  world,  seeing  how  many  advantages  wait  on  those  who 

take  time  to  consider  before  they  precipitate  themselves  into 

action,    Difliculties,  which  seem  insuperable  to  the  beginner, 

vanish  before  those  who  have  the  wisdom  to  observe  Pope's 

rule : — 

Learn  to  speak  slow — all  other  graces 
Will  follow  in  their  proper  places. 

The  graces  may  not  follow  then,  but  slowness  gives  them  a 
chance  of  doing  it  if  they  have  a  mind  to.  Nevertheless, 
deliberation  is  the  beginning  of  power  in  speech.  The 
Hmit  of  slowness  is  drawling.  Without  a  certain  energetic 
slowness  there  can  be  no  certain  effect,  and  seldom  any 
effect  at  all. 

One  who  knew  the  House  of  Commons  well  has  said  : — 
•  Fellows  who  have  been  the  oracles  of  coteries  from  their 
birth — who  have  gone  through  the  regular  process  of  gold 
medals,  senior  wranglerships,  and  double  firsts — who  have 
nightly  sat  down  amid  tumultuous  cheering  in  debating 
societies,  and  can  harangue  with  an  unruffled  forehead  and 
an  unfaltering  voice,  from  one  end  of  a  dinner-table  to  the 
other — who  on  all  occasions  have  something  to  say,  and  can 
speak  with  fluency  on  what  they  know  nothing  about — no 
sooner  rise  in  the  House  than  their  spells  desert  them.  All 
their  effrontery  vanishes.  Common-place  ideas  are  rendered 
even  more  uninteresting  by  a  monotonous  delivery;  and 
keenly  alive,  as  even  boobies  are  in  those  sacred  walls,  to 
the  ridiculous — no  one  appears  more  thoroughly  aware  of 
his  unexpected  and  astounding  deficiencies  than  the  orator 
himself.     He  regains  his  seat,  hot  and  hard,  sultry  and  stiff, 


DELIVERY  35 

with  a  burning  cheek  and  an  icy  hand — repressing  his 
breath  lest  it  should  give  evidence  of  an  existence  of  which 
he  is  ashamed ;  and  clenching  his  fist  that  the  pressure 
may  secretly  convince  him  he  has  not  as  completely 
annihilated  his  stupid  body  as  his  false  reputation.'  * 

This  passage  has  discouraged  more  persons  than  it  ought. 
If  a  man  goes  into  Parliament  to  make  a  demonstration  at 
sight  he  will  commonly  fail.  But  if  he  modestly  gives  it 
information,  and  speaks  when  a  sense  of  duty  comes  over 
him,  upon  what  he  understands,  he  will  succeed  according 
to  what  is  in  him. 

One  who  acquired  great  reputation  for  capacity,  Thomas 
Paine,  confesses  that  the  world  (when  he  first  came  to 
America)  could  not  have  persuaded  him  that  he  should  be 
either  a  soldier  or  an  author.  '  If  I  had  any  talents  for 
either,'  he  said,  '  they  were  buried  in  me,  and  might  have 
ever  continued  so  had  not  the  necessity  of  the  times 
dragged  and  driven  them  into  action.'  He  was  unconscious 
of  his  powers,  as  most  persons  are ;  hence,  trusting  yourself 
to  events  is  good.  It  is  prudent  in  men  not  to  guess  their 
abilities,  but  determine  them  by  enterprise  and  achievement. 
The  first  step  to  success  is  to  try.  There  is  no  learning  to 
swim  without  going  into  the  water.  Had  Hamlet  contem- 
plated being  an  orator,  his  soliloquies  would  have  run 
thus : — 

To  spout,  or  not  to  spout,  that  is  the  question  : 

Whether  'tis  better  for  a  shamefaced  fellow 

(With  voice  unmusical  and  gesture  awkward) 

To  stand  a  mere  spectator  in  this  business, 

Or  have  a  touch  at  Rhetoric  ?     To  speak — to  spout 

No  more  ;  and  by  this  effort,  to  say  we  end 

That  bashfulness,  that  nervous  trepidation 

Displayed  in  maiden  speeches — 'twere  a  consummation 

Devoutly  to  be  wished.     To  read — to  speechify 

Before  folks— perhaps  to  fail  :  ay,  there's  the  rub  ; 

For  from  that  ill  success  what  sneers  may  rise, 


Young  Duke,  by  Disraeli. 


36  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

Ere  we  have  scrambled  through  the  sad  oration, 

Must  give  us  pause.     'Tis  the  same  reason 

That  makes  a  novice  stand  in  hesitation, 

And  gladly  hide  his  own  diminished  head 

Beneath  some  half-fledged  orator's  importance. 

When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 

By  a  mere  recitation.     Who  could  speeches  hear. 

Responded  to  with  hearty  acclamation, 

And  yet  restrain  himself  from  holding  forth — 

But  for  the  dread  of  some  unlucky  failure, 

Some  unforeseen  mistake — some  frightful  blunder — 

Some  vile  pronunciation  or  inflection, 

Improper  emphasis  or  wry-necked  period. 

Which  carping  critics  note,  and  raise  the  laugh, 

Not  to  our  credit — nor  so  soon  forgot  ? 

We  muse  on  this  !     Then  starts  the  pithy  question  : 

Had  we  not  best  be  mute,  and  hide  our  faults. 

Than  spout  to  publish  them  ? 

Spout  and  publish  them  without  hesitation  if  you  wish  to 
cure  them.  Had  Raphael  feared  to  daub,  he  had  never 
been  Raphael  of  renown.  Had  Canova  feared  to  torture 
marble,  he  had  never  been  a  sculptor.  Had  Charles  Kean 
feared  to  spout,  he  had  never  been  an  actor  regarded  as 
next  to  Garrick.  If  you  stammer  like  Demosthenes,  or 
stutter  like  Curran,  speak  on.  He  who  hesitates  to  hesitate 
will  always  hesitate. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

GESTURE   MEASURED   BY   CONVICTION 

As  genius  in  ideas  will  compensate  for  the  neglect  of 
elocutionaiy  art  in  utterance,  so  earnestness  and  com- 
manding thought  will  produce  eloquence  of  effect  without 
gesture  in  delivery.  At  the  same  time,  fitting  gesture, 
which  grows  out  of  personal  animation,  is  an  advantage. 
To  underdo  it,  rather  than  overdo  it,  is  a  safe  rule.  If  the 
arm  moves  from  the  shoulder,  rather  than  from  the  elbow, 
angularity  of  action,  which  is  never  well  received,  will  be 
avoided.  It  is  better  to  commence  a  speech  with  moderate 
action  and  leave  it  to  the  natural  fervour  of  conviction  to 
augment  it. 

As  a  rule,  a  chaste,  concise  and  energetic  style  is  more 
effective  than  a  florid,  turgid  and  prolix  one ;  so  the  judici- 
ous employment  of  moderate  gesture  is  more  effective 
upon  the  taste  of  the  English  people,  who  love  modera- 
tion, than  any  possible  amplification  of  spasmodic  attitudes 
or  redundancy  of  facial  changes.  He  who  commences 
with  moderate  gesture  may  increase  it  without  danger  of 
falling  into  exaggeration,  while  he  who  begins  with  affluence 
of  action  exhausts  his  resources  of  motion  before  the  moment 
for  supreme  effect  arrives. 

Robert  Hall  had  no  oratorical  action,  scarcely  any  kind 
of  motion,  excepting  an  occasional  lifting  or  waving  of  the 
right  hand;  and  in  his  most  impassioned  moments  only 
an  alternate  retreat  and  advance  in  the  pulpit  by  a  short 

37 

CI-  r  '  y 

r^ii,  <L>'  V-*-  *L->    ^^     * 


38  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Step.  Nor  had  W.  J.  Fox  much  gesture.  His  hands  were 
crossed  before  him.  One  or  other  arm  was  raised  (I  do  not 
remember  to  have  seen  both  raised  at  once)  and  pointed 
towards,  rather  than  at,  the  audience.  The  action  seemed 
more  effective  from  its  moderation.  Mr  Bright  had  impres- 
sive gestures,  which  were  moderately  used.  Mr  Gladstone's 
striking  and  animated  gestures  are  one  of  the  charms  of 
his  oratory.  Gambetta  was  a  master  of  gesture  :  but  it  was 
slow,  imposing,  sustained  by  his  mighty  voice  and  well- 
chosen  words.  He  excelled  in  vigorous  sentences,  which  no 
compeer  could  express  with  like  luminousness.  His  gestures 
illustrated  his  sense ;  they  were  not,  as  with  many  animated 
speakers,  a  substitute  for  sense. 

Sincerity  is  not  always  elegance,  nor  is  earnestness  always 
grace ;  nevertheless,  earnestness  is  the  best  schoolmaster  of 
gesture.  Awkwardness  and  angularity  of  movement  is 
forgiven  to  the  sincere.  In  some,  grace  of  gesture  comes 
by  nature,  some  acquire  it  by  dancing.  Grace  mostly 
comes  by  training,  but  those  who  have  it  not  should 
confine  themselves  to  few  motions.  Awkwardness  will 
not  be  so  apparent  then.  Besides,  there  is  another  com- 
pensation— a  little  gesture  goes  a  long  way  when  there  is 
manifest  conviction  behind  it.  However,  gesture  is  but  the 
outward  and  visible  ornament  of  inward  sources  of  effective- 
ness. To  venture  upon  imitating  Italian  or  French  gesture, 
the  speaker  needs  Italian  grace  and  French  animation. 


CHAPTER   IX 

CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS 

Besides  the  effectiveness  which  relates  to  manner  of 
delivery,  there  is  the  effectiveness  which  depends  upon 
the  mind.  Effectiveness  is  the  aim  of  oratory.  So  far 
as  it  can  be  compassed — it  can  be  compassed  more  or 
less  by  calculation  in  statement.  There  may  be  effective- 
ness without  calculation,  and  effects  unpremeditated  are 
sometimes  marvellous.  But  a  wise  speaker  does  not  depend 
on  chance — his  strength  is  to  foreknow.  Manifest  sincerity 
in  speech  may  be  depended  upon  to  create  a  good  impres- 
sion on  an  audience.  Earnestness  is  a  quality  which  on  the 
platform  might  degenerate  into  emotionalism,  which,  lack- 
ing self-possession,  would  be  fatal  to  public  effect.  Sincerity 
is  a  manly,  self-contained  sentiment,  less  pretentious  than 
earnestness.  Nevertheless,  earnestness,  when  good  sense 
controls  it,  is  a  noble  quality.  Yet  not  even  sincerity  is 
everything.  It  does  not  imply  the  truth  of  what  is  said. 
That  still  requires  to  be  proved.  Some  think  sincerity  is 
errorless.  Once  everybody,  save  a  few  philosophers,  be 
Ueved  it  to  be  a  sign  of  truth.  Robespierre  was  sincere : 
he  was  a  man  who  made  sincerity  terrible.  Some  of  his 
speeches,  not  all,  read  like  a  murder.  There  was  a  guillo- 
tine in  them.  His  sentences  dripped  with  blood.  No 
genius,  no  talent,  no  sincerity  is  to  be  trusted  or  praised — 
unless   it   conduces,  and  is   intended  to  conduce,  to  the 

welfare  of  others. 

39 


40  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Nevertheless,  with  all  its  limitations,  sincerity  and  capa- 
city annihilate  personal  disadvantages.  I  knew  a  rotund 
orator,  who  appeared  on  the  platform  as  Charles  James 
Fox  must  have  appeared  in  Pitt's  days — like  a  sugar  hogs- 
head on  two  props,  yet  upon  whom  the  audience  looked  with 
admiration  while  he  spoke.  Louis  Blanc  was  diminutive  in 
stature,  but  he  was  so  entirely  a  man,  and  his  speaking  was 
so  sonorous,  pregnant  and  animated,  that  his  small  stature 
seemed  an  advantage  to  him.  Robert  Hall  was  a  preacher 
who  had  ideas,  as  well  as  precision  and  energy  of  style, 
yet  the  spiritual  and  intrinsic  charm  of  his  speech  was  its 
earnestness.  Foster  said  of  Hall,  '  Truth  (to  him)  was  a 
universal  element,  and  to  enforce  its  claims  was  his  con- 
stant aim.  Whether  he  attempted  to  engage  the  reason, 
the  affections,  or  the  fancy,  all  was  subsidiary  to  this  end. 
He  was  always  in  earnest,'  as  to  the  necessity  of  discerning 
truth,  explaining  it,  and  vindicating  it. 

Effectiveness  lies  also  in  proportion.  Not  in  the  beauty 
of  a  pillar,  or  the  finish  of  a  frieze,  but  in  the  commanding- 
ness  which  the  whole  building  has  over  the  spectator — not 
in  the  brilliance  of  a  passage,  but  in  the  coherence  of  the 
whole  lies  the  effectiveness  of  a  speech  or  a  book. 

One  conspicuous  element  of  force  is  a  defined  pur- 
pose. Better  say  nothing  than  not  to  the  purpose.  No 
part  should  attract  the  main  attention  entirely  to  itself. 
The  chief  merit  of  any  part  is  its  subserviency  to  the  whole 
design.  When  parts  are  praised,  a  speaker  is  said  to  have 
brilliance ;  when  the  whole  impresses,  he  is  said  to  have 
power.  In  a  speech,  as  in  a  drawing  on  a  reduced  scale,  all 
the  proportions  have  to  be  there.  If  a  subject  is  too  ex- 
tensive for  an  ordinary  speech,  present  a  distinct  portion 
which  shows  the  quahty  of  the  whole.  Hierocles  carried  a 
brick  in  his  pocket  as  a  specimen  of  the  house  he  wanted 
to  sell.  It  gave  no  idea  of  its  situation,  or  convenience, 
but  it  proved  his  confidence  in  the  quality  of  its  material. 

Lucidity  of  arrangement  is  intent   made  evident   to  an 


CONDITIONS  OF   EFFECTIVENESS  4I 

assembly,  and  is  no  mean  element  of  effectiveness.  As 
reasoning  proceeds  from  axioms  which  cannot  be  lost  sight 
of  without  confusion — so  an  argumentative  speech  has  a 
foregone  object  which  must  be  disclosed  to  the  hearers,  or 
they  will  be  unable  to  follow  the  speaker  intelligently. 
The  Encydopcedia  MetropoUtatia  has  explained  clearly  the 
advantages  of  this  course  in  the  following  terms  : — 

'  In  purely  argumentative  statement,  or  in  the  argumenta- 
tive division  of  mixed  statements,  and  especially  in  argu- 
mentative speeches,  it  is  essential  that  the  issue  to  be  proved 
should  be  distinctly  announced  in  the  beginning,  in  order 
that  the  tenour  and  drift  that  way  of  everything  that  is  said 
may  be  the  better  apprehended ;  and  it  is  also  useful,  when 
the  chain  of  argument  is  long,  to  give  a  forecast  of  the 
principle  bearings  and  junctures,  whereby  the  attention  will 
be  more  easily  secured  and  pertinently  directed  throughout 
the  more  closely  consecutive  detail,  and  each  proposition  of 
the  series  will  be  clenched  in  the  memory  by  its  foreknown 
relevancy  to  what  is  to  follow.' 

These  are  well-known  rules,  which  it  were  superfluous  to 
cite,  except  for  the  instruction  of  the  young.  But  examples 
may  be  occasionally  observed  of  juvenile  orators  who  will 
conceal  the  end  they  aim  at  until  they  have  led  their  hearers 
through  the  long  chain  of  antecedents,  in  order  that  they 
may  produce  surprise  by  forcing  a  sudden  acknowledgment 
of  what  had  not  been  foreseen.  The  disadvantage  of  this 
method  is  that  the  hearer  is  apt  to  resent  being  trapped 
into  assent.  It  puzzles  and  provokes  the  hearer  during  its 
statement,  confounds  him  in  the  conclusion,  and  gives  an 
overcharged  impression  of  the  orator's  ingenuity  on  the  part 
of  those  who  may  have  attended  to  him  sufficiently  to  have 
been  convinced.  It  is  a  method  by  which  the  business  of 
the  argument  is  sacrificed  to  ostentation  in  the  conduct  of 
it,  and  the  ease  and  satisfaction  of  the  auditors  sacrificed  to 
the  vanity  of  the  arguer.  The  novehst  or  dramatist  will 
often  conceal  the  secret  of  his  plot  to  allure  the  reader  to 


42  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  end,  and  take  him  by  surprise  then,  if  he  can.  In  that 
case  the  story  has  to  be  entertaining  up  to  that  point,  or  the 
reader  will  not  hold  on  till  he  reaches  it.  Unless  a  speaker 
is  sure  of  enchanting  his  audience  as  he  goes  along,  hearers 
will  not  wait  for  the  point  of  his  argument,  which  has  been 
concealed  from  them.  Besides,  there  is  this  difference 
between  a  novel  and  an  argument.  The  novel  is  intended 
to  amuse,  the  argument  to  convince,  and  when  a  link  is  lost, 
by  ignorance  of  its  relevance,  the  chain  of  proof  is  dis- 
connected. 

Yet  though  the  aim  of  an  argument  must  be  divulged,  the 
drift  of  an  illustration,  if  brief,  may  be  kept  back.  In  one 
of  the  Anti-Corn-Law  orations  of  W.  J.  Fox  in  Covent 
Garden  Theatre,  there  occurred  a  striking  example  of  this. 
He  commenced  by  stating  the  case  of  certain  poachers, 
related  in  the  newspapers  of  that  day,  who  had  been 
sentenced  at  Ashby  -  de  -  la  -  Zouch  to  considerable  terms 
of  imprisonment.  When  to  this  punishment  was  added 
the  loss  and  privation  to  which  the  families  of  the 
prisoners  were  subjected,  the  penalty  was  serious.  No 
one  foresaw  the  relevance  of  the  story,  but  which  the 
orator  did  not  long  withhold.  He  demanded  to  know  '  i 
this  shall  be  done  to  the  poor  man  who  steals  the  rich 
man's  bird,  what  shall  be  done  to  the  rich  man  who  steals 
the  poor  man's  bread  ? '  I  know  of  no  first  words  of  any 
speech  which  produced  so  great  an  effect.  The  argument 
was  as  a  match  applied  to  a  funeral  pyre  where  the  fallacies 
of  protection  were  burned  before  the  eyes  of  the  meeting. 

An  appeal  to  experience  is  a  force  in  due  place.  '  The 
argument,'  says  Emerson,  '  which  has  not  the  power  to  reach 
my  own  practice,  I  may  well  doubt  will  fail  to  reach  yours. 
I  have  heard  an  experienced  counsellor  say,  that  he  never 
feared  the  effect  upon  a  jury  of  a  lawyer  who  does  not 
believe  in  his  heart  that  his  client  ought  to  have  a  verdict.' 
Samuel  Bailey,  in  his  Revieiv  of  Berkeley s  *  Theory  of 
Vision^  says  : — 


CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS  43 

*  Many  years  ago,  I  held  what  may  be  styled  a  derivative 
opinion  in  favour  of  Berkeley's  Theory  of  Vision,  but  having 
in  the  course  of  a  philosophical  discussion  had  occasion  to 
explain  it,  I  found,  on  attempting  to  state  in  my  own 
language  the  grounds  on  which  it  rested,  that  they  no 
longer  appeared  to  me  to  be  so  clear  and  conclusive  as  I 
had  fancied  them  to  be.  I  determined  to  make  it  the 
subject  of  a  patient  and  dispassionate  examination.  The 
result  has  been  a  clear  conviction  in  my  own  mind  of  its 
erroneousness,  and  a  desire  to  state  to  the  philosophical 
world  the  grounds  on  which  that  conviction  has  been 
formed.' 

This  is  an  interesting  instance  of  the  truth  of  the  obser- 
vation that  that  statement  only  is  fit  to  be  made  public 
which  you  have  come  at  in  attempting  to  satisfy  your  own 
understanding. 

An  editor  of  Shelley's  posthumous  poems  apologises  for 
the  publication  of  some  fragments  in  a  very  incomplete  state, 
by  remarking,  '  how  much  more  than  every  other  poet  of  the 
present  day,  every  line  and  word  he  wrote  is  instinct  with 
beauty.'  Let  no  man  sit  down  to  write  with  the  purpose  of 
making  every  line  and  word  beautiful  and  peculiar.  Sir 
Henry  Taylor  thought '  the  only  effect  of  such  an  endeavour 
will  be  to  corrupt  the  judgment  and  confound  the  under- 
standing.' 

Augustine  Birrell,  in  a  criticism  wise  in  a  new  way,  like 
many  other  criticisms  of  his,  remarks  that  '  Emerson  writes 
like  an  electrical  cat,  emitting  sparks  and  shocks  in  every 
sentence.  The  lights  irradiate  the  forest,  but  disclose  no 
path.'     The  same  critic  explains  what  many  have  felt. 

'You  never  know  what  Emerson  will  be  at.  His  sen- 
tences fall  over  you  in  glittering  cascades,  beautiful  and 
bright,  and  for  the  moment  refreshing.  But  after  a  very 
brief  while  the  mind,  having  nothing  to  do  on  its  own 
account  but  to  remain  wide  open  and  see  what  Emerson 
will  send  it,  grows  first  restive  and  then  torpid.     Admiration 


44  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

gives  way  to  astonishment,  astonishment  to  bewilderment, 
and  bewilderment  to  stupefaction.' 

As  a  rule,  men  are  not  much  in  danger  of  being  too  brilliant. 
Happily  for  orators,  occasional  phrases  of  power  are  sufficient 
for  effect  and  reputation.  Brightness  and  force  are  attain- 
able by  him  who,  knowing  what  he  wishes  to  say,  knows 
why  it  should  be  said.  Telling  the  audience  the  reason 
which  has  convinced  the  speaker  is  that  explanation  which 
produces  impression.  It  fulfils  Mr  J.  R.  Green's  rule — '  it 
takes  the  public  into  the  speaker's  confidence,  who  are 
addressed  as  though  they  knew  as  much  as  the  speaker 
himself.'  An  orator  will  be  all  the  more  explanatory,  in- 
teresting and  engaging,  if  he  assumes  in  his  o^ati  mind  that 
his  hearers  know  nothing  upon  the  subject.  A  painting 
all  white  or  all  black  allures  no  eye.  It  is  light  and  shade 
that  make  the  picture.  A  fixed  beacon  light  is  not  seen 
at  sea  as  far,  nor  as  well,  as  a  revolving  hght. 

To  speak,  study  simplicity;  abjure  affectation  and 
be  natural.  The  natural  voice  is  heard  the  farthest,  and 
the  natural  effects  the  soonest.  '  The  costly  charm  of  the 
ancient  tragedy  is  that  the  persons  speak  simply,  speak  as 
persons  who  have  great  good  sense  without  knowing  it.' 
Nothing  astonishes  men  so  much  as  common  sense  and  plain 
dealing.  Sincerity  and  simplicity  carry  all  before  them. 
On  Thiers's  first  appearance  in  the  French  Chamber  he 
experienced  an  almost  universally  unfavourable  reception. 
He  was  diminutive,  with  an  expression  of  countenance — 
though  intellectual,  reflective  and  sarcastic  —  far  from 
possessing  beauty.  The  face  itself,  small  in  form,  was  en- 
cumbered with  a  pair  of  spectacles  so  large  that,  when 
peering  over  the  marble  edge  of  the  long  narrow  tribune 
whence  all  speakers  address  the  Chamber,  he  was  described 
as  appearing  suspended  to  the  two  orbs  of  crystal.  With 
such  an  exterior  M.  Thiers,  full  of  the  impassioned  eloquence 
of  his  favourite  revolutionary  orators,  sought  to  impart  those 
thrilling  emotions  recorded  of  Mirabeau.     The  attempt  pro- 


CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS  45 

voiced  derision,  but  only  for  a  time.  In  his  new  sphere,  as 
in  the  others  he  had  passed  through,  he  soon  outshone 
competition.  Subsiding  into  the  oratory  natural  to  him — 
simple,  vigorous  and  rapid,  he  proved  himself  one  of  the 
most  formidable  of  Parliamentary  champions. 

Have  a  clear  meaning  and  never  obscure  it.  A  wit  may 
leave  his  words  open  to  two  interpretations  if  he  intends  to 
amuse  and  not  to  deceive.  Dryden,  a  great  poet,  and  Otway 
a  poet  also,  but  of  lesser  magnitude,  lived  in  the  same  street 
in  houses  facing  each  other.  One  morning  Otway  wrote  in 
chalk  on  Dryden's  door  the  line  : — 

Here  lives  Dryden,  a  poet  and  a  wit. 

Dryden,  on  coming  out,  saw  it,  and  wrote  underneath  it : — 

Written  by  Otway  opposite. 

It  has  never  been  settled  to  this  day  whether  Dryden  meant 
merely  to  say  that  the  Une  of  praise  his  neighbours  would  see 
written  on  his  own  door  about  him,  was  not  written  by  him- 
self— but  written  by  a  person  living  opposite ;  or  that  Otway 
was  the  opposite  of  '  a  poet  and  a  wit.' 

But  in  matters  of  moment,  which  will  affect  themselves 
and  others,  men  like  to  know,  and  have  a  right  to  demand, 
with  General  Ludlow,  that  a  speaker's  words  shall  not  only 
be  such  as  can  be  understood,  but  such  as  cannot  possibly 
be  misunderstood. 

For  eflfectiveness  in  speech  or  writing,  keep  clear  of  philo- 
sophical fogginess  and  common-place  sentiment.  Avoid  as 
far  as  possible  abstract  terms,  abstract  questions,  and  abstract 
ideas.  Keep  to  palpable  things,  and  such  as  pass  before  the 
auditors  in  daily  life.  It  is  very  well  to  entertain  Utopian 
ideas — it  implies  an  outside  mind ;  but  it  is  not  convincing 
to  act  altogether  on  Utopian  principles  till  you  are  in  Utopia. 

Beware  of  the  transition  epoch  in  argument,  so  common 
and  so  false,  by  which  so  many  alarm  the  public  at  what 


46  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND  DEBATE 

they  call  the  decay  of  faith,  which  is  being  superseded  by 
the  evolution  of  higher  truth.  Transition  is  no  new  thing ; 
it  has  been  going  on  ever  since  time  began.  Transition  is 
the  step  of  ceaseless  progress.  Its  determined  and  tireless 
tread  is  heard  in  every  epoch.  Transition  is  the  change- 
bringer  of  time.  The  hills,  the  ocean,  the  climate,  society, 
men  and  creeds  are  changing  hourly  and  always.  It  is  an 
open  question  whether  a  particular  change  is  good  or  bad. 
It  is  reasonable  to  reason  about  it.  But  to  talk  of  the 
present  time  as  one  of  transition,  which  the  speaker  has 
found  out,  is  no  novelty  of  discovery.  It  is  older  than  the 
mountains.     Transition  is  eternal. 

Men  so  well-informed,  and  so  self-conscious  of  infallibility 
as  Carlyle  was,  could  say  in  the  days  passing  over  him, 
'Few  men  have  seen  more  impressive  days  of  endless 
calamity,  disruption,  dislocation,  confusion  worse  con- 
founded. If  they  are  not  days  of  endless  hope  too,  then 
they  are  days  of  utter  despair.'  Public  men,  priests  and 
politicians  before  the  days  of  Noah,  and  ever  since,  have 
said  the  same  thing.  It  is  the  common  jargon  of  Parlia- 
ment. I  have  seen  the  sun  of  England  set  for  ever 
annually  for  sixty  years,  according  to  the  predictions  of  our 
political  Cassandras.  It  weakens  public  respect  for  a  man's 
judgment  to  hear  him  talk  thus.  Foolishness  destroys 
effectiveness. 

No  more  should  be  said  at  any  time  than  can  be  said 
well.  Brevity  is  the  instinct  of  art.  If  anything  is  pro- 
longed it  must  be  varied  and  perfect  in  every  part.  It  is 
a  mistake  to  try  to  say  everything  which  can  be  said  upon 
a  subject.  Confine  yourself  to  so  much  as  will  make  a 
distinct  impression.  Enough  is  as  good  as  a  feast  and 
better,  and  too  much  is  worse  than  a  fast. 

Against  multitudes  of  words  the  poets  have  given  many 
warnings.     One  who  knew  exclaims  : — 

Words  are  like  leaves  ;  and  where  they  most  abound, 
Much  fruit  of  serse  beneath,  is  rarely  found. 


CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS  47 

There  are  those  who,  Hke  Talleyrand,  regard  words  as  given 
to  us  to  conceal  our  meaning.  But  where  the  intention 
is  to  make  things  clear,  we  must  give  heed  to  Moore's  sug- 
gestion— 

The  wise  men  of  Egypt  were  secret  as  dummies, 
And  e'en  when  they  most  condescended  to  teach, 

They  packed  up  their  meaning,  as  they  did  their  mummies, 
In  so  many  wrappers,  'twas  out  of  one's  reach. 

Co-operators  ought  to  be  good  speakers ;  their  study 
being  economy,  and  economy  in  words  is  the  source  of 
effectiveness  in  speech.  Economy  is  honourable  in  war. 
Wellington  was  a  greater  general  than  Napoleon,  inasmuch 
as  he  compassed  great  effects  with  a  smaller  expenditure 
of  men ;  as  he  is  the  greatest  speaker  who  accomplishes 
conviction  with  the  smallest  number  of  words. 

We  can  do  without  any  article  of  luxury  we  never  had, 
but  when  once  obtained,  it  is  not  in  human  nature  to 
surrender  it  voluntarily.  Of  twelve  thousand  clocks  left  on 
trial  by  Sam  Slick,  only  ten  were  returned.  *  We  trust  to 
soft  sawder,'  said  Sam,  'to  get  them  into  the  house, 
and  to  human  nature  that  they  never  come  out  of  it.' 
Yet  how  many  persons  expect  to  produce  effects  upon 
assemblies  of  men  who  never  bestow  half  the  time  upon 
the  study  of  their  natures  as  was  given  by  our  American 
clock-seller. 

The  young  speaker  will  do  well  to  notice  that  morality 
is  better  understood,  at  least  in  theory,  than  in  former 
days,  and  that  the  public  like  sincerity  on  the  part  of  a 
speaker.  A  life  which  shall  illustrate  what  the  orator 
seeks  to  enforce  will  add  materially  to  his  influence.  Some 
will  ask — May  not  a  recommendation  be  a  good  one  though 
the  giver  of  it  be  bad  ?  Yes ;  but  is  it  not  an  advantage 
•when  both  are  worthy  ?  The  public  may  accept  good  advice 
from  men  who  will  not  take  it  themselves.  But  is  it  not  the 
object  of  a  wise  rhetoric  to  increase  the  number  of  men 


48  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

who  act  themselves  on  the  advice  they  give  ?  If  the  public 
should  be  composed  of  men  who  hear  only  and  never 
practise,  who  does  not  see  that  we  may  give  over  all  exhorta- 
tions of  amendment  ?  Mankind  reason  that  that  which  is 
good  for  the  public  is  good  for  individuals,  since  individuals 
make  up  the  public.  And  when  it  is  seen  that  a  man 
does  not  follow  his  own  advice,  it  is  concluded  that 
either  he  is  a  simpleton,  and  consequently  is  not  to  be 
heeded,  or  that  he  is  secretly  conscious  of  som.e  inapplica- 
bility in  his  own  recommendations,  and  therefore  to  be 
suspected. 

The  moral  existence  of  men  is  made  up  of  a  few  trains 
of  thought,  which,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  are  excited 
and  re-excited  again  and  again.  These  leading  ideas  rule 
despotically  over  conduct,  and,  whoever  awakens  these, 
influence  those  whom  he  addresses.  It  is  in  these  leading 
ideas  that  we  see  the  source  of  character.  These  features 
the  rhetorician  studies.  When  Napoleon  in  Egypt  was 
threatened  by  his  disaffected  generals,  he  vanquished  them 
by  an  appeal  to  three  traits  in  their  character  —  their 
pride,  their  honour  and  their  bravery.  Walking  among 
them,  he  exclaimed  :  '  You  are  too  many  to  assassinate  me, 
and  too  few  to  intimidate  me.'  The  fury  of  the  men  was 
subdued  to  admiration,  and  they  turned  away,  exclaiming, 

*  Damn  him,  how  brave  he  is.'  It  is  said  the  heart  has  no 
avenue  so  open  as  that  of  flattery,  which,  like  some  enchant- 
ment, lays  its  guards  asleep.  But  flattery  which  succeeds 
with  the  intelligent  requires  art.  If  honest,  it  is  excellent. 
A  famous  politician,  at  a  Royal  Academy  dinner,  listening  to 
insincere  praise  which  others  called  'clever,'  he  answered, 

*  I  call  it  hellish.' 

Youth  should  lay  the  foundation  of  eloquence  in  char- 
acter and  honesty.  Let  him  speak  for  the  right ;  let  him 
not  borrow  the  language  of  idle  gentlemen  or  self-complacent 
scholars,  much  less  that  of  sensualists,  absorbed  in  greed  of 
purse  and  palate ;  let  him  speak  for  the  absent,  defend  the 


CONDITIONS   OF   EFFECTIVENESS  49 

friendless,  the  poor,  the  slave,  the  prisoner  and  the  lost.    Let 
him  look  upon  opposition  as  opportunity ;  he  is  one  who 
cannot  be  defeated  or  put  down.     Let  him  feel  that  it  is 
not  the  people  who  are  in  fault  for  not  being  convinced 
but  the  speaker  who  cannot  convince  them. 


CHAPTER    X 

LAWS    O  F    DEBATE 

Debate  is  a  larger  question  than  is  generally  understood. 
Every  man  is  debating  daily,  either  with  himself  or  someone 
else.  A  man  debates  questions  with  his  household  or  with 
friends.  Whenever  a  difference  of  opinion  arises  oetween 
two  persons,  they  instinctively  debate  it  together.  This 
term  has,  also,  a  public  signification,  and  is  applied  to 
discussions  in  Parliament  and  formal  debates  on  public 
platforms.  Correspondence  in  newspapers,  reviews  and 
periodicals  often  takes  the  form  of  controversy.  All  forms 
of  controversy,  where  one  person  seeks  to  justify  his 
opinion  against  the  differing  opinion  of  another,  is  debate ; 
for  intellectual  life  is  a  perpetual  discussion.  Conversation 
is  often  a  friendly  debate.  Error  of  idea  is  everywhere  an 
antagonist 

Some  people  are  so  disquieted  by  contrariety  of  opinion 
that  they  fear  the  fate  of  the  Catholic  and  Jew,  who  debated 
together  the  grounds  of  their  faiths,  and  ended  by  the  Jew 
becoming  a  Catholic  and  the  Catholic  a  Jew.  Some  fear 
discussion  because  they  are  like  the  judge  who  said  he 
understood  a  case  when  he  had  heard  only  one  side — it  was 
the  other  side  which  perplexed  him.  The  risk  of  this 
perplexity  he  must  undergo  who  would  be  wise. 

Before  taking  part  in  debate,  a  man  has  to  vindicate  to 
himself  the  uses  of  debate. 

I.  It  creates  two-sided  people. 

50 


LAWS   OF   DEBATE  5 1 

2.  It  instils  toleration. 

3.  It  proves  truth  which  may  be  trusted. 

4.  It  puts  into  the  mind  the  sense  of  reasoned  truth. 

5.  It  sows  the  seeds  of  new  truth. 

Those  who  object  to  these  things  may  as  well  keep  clear 
of  debate,  for  they  will  misuse  it  and  distrust  it. 

The  first  rules  to  be  observed  in  taking  part  in  debate  is  : — 

1.  To  state  your  case. 

2.  To  clear  your  case. 

3.  To  prove  your  case. 

4.  And  then  sit  down. 

There  was  once  an  old  doctor,  the  lecturer  on  logic  and 
rhetoric  at  a  Scotch  university,  who  received  the  fees  from 
the  pupils  on  entering,  who  used  to  say  to  them,  when  they 
had  finished  their  term,  that  there  were  only  two  rules  to 
follow — '  One  was,  when  you  have  anything  to  say,  say  it  in 
as  few  words  as  you  can ;  the  other  is,  when  you've  said  it, 
hold  your  tongue.' 

General  Ludlow  held  that  a  man  should  say  what  he 
means  and  mean  what  he  says.  This  is  as  true  in  debate 
as  in  morals.  In  debate,  you  must  not  only  say  what  you 
mean — but  know  what  you  mean.  The  audience  will  soon 
find  out  if  you  do  not  know  it. 

I.  The  speaker  must  state  his  case  that  the  hearers  may 
understand  to  what  he  asks  their  attention ;  without  this 
information  they  cannot  judge  what  his  object  is,  nor  tell 
when  he  is  relevant  or  when  he  digresses.  In  stating  your 
case  give  the  other  side  of  the  case — if  you  know  it.  The 
contrast  will  make  your  meaning  clear,  and  show  that  you 
know  what  your  case  is.  There  is  a  fine  instance  in  the 
writings  of  Toulmin  Smith* — '  Decentralisation  or  adminis- 
tration by  localities,  is  that  system  of  government  under 
which  the  greatest  number  of  minds,  knowing  most  about 
the  special  matter  in  hand,  having  the  greatest  opportunities 
of  knowing  about  it,  and  having  the  greatest  interests  in  its 
*  Local  Self-  Governmeni,  pp.  395  to  409, 


52  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

well-working,  have  the  management  of  it  or  control  over  it. 
Centrahsation  or  administration  by  departments  is  that 
system  of  government  under  which  the  smallest  number  of 
minds,  knowing  the  least  about  the  special  matter  in  hand, 
having  the  fewest  opportunities  of  knowing  about  it,  and 
having  the  smallest  interest  in  its  well-working,  have  the 
management  of  it  or  control  over  it.' 

2.  Then  the  speaker  must  clear  his  case — showing  plainly 
what  he  is  aiming  at,  making  his  question  quite  distinct, 
that  it  may  not  be  mixed  up  with  something  likely  to  be 
advanced  by  another  disputant.  He  must  free  his  main 
terms  from  ambiguity,  so  that  ignorance  cannot  mistake 
what  he  intends,  nor  an  adversary  pervert  his  meaning.  On 
a  certain  occasion  a  witness  said  he  knew  the  accused  '  the 
moment  he  obtained  a  full-faced  view  of  his  back.'  A  back 
may  have  its  peculiarities,  but  a  'full-faced'  view  of  it  is 
difficult  to  obtain.  General  Grant  said  of  his  rival  for  the 
presidency  (General  Hancock)  that,  sitting  behind  him,  '  you 
knew  when  he  was  pleased,  for  you  could  see  him  laugh 
behind  his  ears.'     I  have  seen  other  Hancocks  do  this. 

3.  A  speaker  must  next  prove  his  case,  so  that  the  reasons 
of  his  argument  may  be  evident.  Here  he  should  adduce 
facts  which  cannot  well  be  disputed  in  support  of  his  con- 
tention, and  employ,  if  he  can,  such  illustrations  as  make 
his  meaning  clearer. 

4.  Having  done  all  he  can  to  put  the  hearer  in  posses- 
sion of  his  case — he  gives  place  to  his  adversary  within 
the  allotted  time — if  the  time  be  prescribed. 

A  barrister  will  occasionally  state  a  complex  case  to  the 
jury  before  him,  beginning  with  the  simplest  circumstances, 
continuing  with  the  more  difficult,  arranging  the  facts  in 
such  order  that  the  series  throw  light  on  the  most  obscure 
points — that  the  whole  case  may  be  fully  understood. 
When  he  feels  this  to  be  accomplished  he  returns,  recapitu- 
lates, selects  those  points  he  wishes  to  have  most  weight, 
puts  them  before  the  jury  freshly,  prominently,  and  as  forcibly 


LAWS   OF   DEBATE  53 

as  he  can.  If  his  brief  affords  it,  and  he  has  no  scruples,  he 
can,  like  Charles  Phillips,  in  his  defence  of  Courvoisier  for 
the  murder  of  Lord  William  Russell,  seek  to  fix  the  guilt 
on  an  innocent  man ;  or,  like  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelly,  shed  tears 
to  attest  his  belief  that  Tawell  was  innocent,  whom  he  knew 
to  be  guilty.  But  he  who  does  this  loses  evermore  the 
confidence  of  those  who  know  it. 

In  debate,  it  is  a  great  point  to  have  the  main  point  in 
mind,  and  never  to  lose  sight  of  it.  An  argument  is  like  a 
picture  which  has  a  point  to  which  all  lines  converge.  It 
was  O'Connell  who  said  an  orator  should  always  know 
what  he  is  aiming  at,  for  when  a  man  aims  at  nothing 
he  is  almost  sure  to  hit  it. 

Young  debating  societies  have  a  tendency  not  to  know 
what  the  point  is,  and  to  wander  from  it  when  they  do 
know  it.  Upon  the  chairman  is  cast  the  trouble  of  dis- 
cerning what  the  main  points  are  in  the  mind  of  the  person 
who  opens  the  debate,  and  if  this  has  not  been  made  clear 
to  the  chairman,  he  should  ascertain  what  the  main  points 
meant  to  be  debated  are,  and  state  them  himself  to  the  meet- 
ing before  the  discussion  commences.  Having  once  made 
the  question  unquestionably  plain,  he  should  remind  every 
speaker  of  it  who  forgets  it,  and  point  out  to  him  when  he  is 
wandering  therefrom.  But  a  chairman  should  not  use  much 
strictness  in  doing  this,  because  some  speakers  cannot  see 
a  point,  and  cannot  keep  to  it  if  they  do.  Therefore,  if  they 
were  strictly  called  to  order  they  would  be  incapable  of 
speaking  at  all.  But  though  it  might  be  desirable,  for  the 
sake  of  affording  young  speakers  practice,  and  of  training  a 
.society  in  the  habits  of  debate,  to  allow  disputants  to  speak 
in  the  best  way  they  can,  the  meeting  should  be  incident- 
ally kept  informed  when  the  question  is  getting  mixed  up 
with  something  else.  In  a  debate,  if  speakers  introduce 
irrelevant  subjects,  the  good  or  evil  of  these  different 
subjects  will  be  entered  upon.  Other  speakers  arise  and 
combat  what  other  speakers  have  said  upon  these  subjects, 


54  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  hardly  anybody  remembers 
what  the  actual  subject  before  the  meeting  was.  Now,  the 
i<  business  of  disputants  is  to  discuss  the  speech  of  the  opener 
of  the  debate,  rather  than  the  speeches  of  each  other. 
What  other  speakers  say  should  be  referred  to  only, 
or  mainly,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  topic  before  the 
meeting.  Discussion  is  excellent  discipline  in  the  art  of 
discovering  what  a  point  is  and  what  relates  to  it.  Dis- 
cussion is  always  valuable,  inasmuch  as  it  elicits  contrariety 
of  opinion  that  nobody  could  suspect,  and  misconceptions 
which  nobody  could  imagine.  No  person  can  be  said 
to  entirely  understand  any  subject  until  he  has  debated  it 
with  sharp-witted  people.  In  the  art  of  seeing  all  round 
a  question,  a  night  in  a  discussion  room  will  do  more  for  a 
man  than  a  month  in  a  library,  that  is,  supposing  the 
president  has  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  speakers  before 
him  to  bring  their  various  powers  into  play,  and  at  the  same 
time  supposing  that  the  speakers  have  powers  which  the 
president  can  elicit  and  bring  into  action. 

No  opponent  should  be  accepted  whose  sincerity  cannot 
be  assumed,  since  it  ought  not  to  be  questioned  in  debate. 
To  give  an  adversary  credit  for  good  faith  is  economy  in 
reasoning,  since  you  have  only  to  refute  his  principles — not 
himself — which  leaves  you  all  your  time  and  force  for  the 
greater  and  more  useful  task.  Find  no  fault  with  his 
grammar,  manner,  intentions,  tone.  Attend  only  to  the 
I  matter.  Hear  all  things  without  impatience  and  without 
'  manifest  emotion.  Let  your  opponent  fully  exhaust  his 
matter.  Encourage  him  to  say  whatever  he  thinks  relevant. 
Many  persons  believe  in  the  validity  and  magnitude  of 
their  positions,  because  they  have  never  been  permitted  to 
state  them  to  others — and  when  they  have  once  delivered 
themselves  of  their  opinions,  they  often  find  for  the  first 
time  how  insignificant  they  are.  There  are  some  persons 
whom  nobody  can  confute  but  themselves.  When  you 
distinguish  such,  your  proper  business  is  to  let  them  do  it. 


LAWS  OF  DEBATE  55 

Learn  to  satisfy  yourself  and  to  present  a  conclusive  state- 
ment of  your  opinions,  and  when  you  have  done  so,  have 
the  courage  to  abide  by  it.  If  you  cannot  trust  your  state- 
ment to  be  canvassed  by  others — if  you  feel  anxious  to  add 
some  additional  remark  at  every  step — suspect  your  know- 
ledge of  your  own  case  and  amend  it  on  further  reflection.  l 
Master  as  completely  as  you  can  your  opponent's  theories, 
and  state  his  case  with  manifest  fairness,  and,  if  possible, 
state  it  with  more  force  against  yourself  than  your  opponent 
did.  The  observance  of  this  rule  will  teach  you  two  things 
— your  opponent's  strength  or  weakness,  and  your  own  also. 
If  you  cannot  state  your  opponent's  case  you  do  not  know 
it,  and  if  you  do  not  know  it  you  are  not  in  a  fit  position  to 
argue  against  it.  If  you  dare  not  state  your  opponent's  case 
in  its  greatest  force,  you  feel  it  to  be  stronger  than  your  own, 
and  in  that  case  you  ought  not  to  argue  against  it. 

The  course  here  suggested  will  be  as  useful  to  truth  as  to 
the  disputant.  Great  prejudice  may  often  be  disarmed  by 
daring  it.  In  this  manner.  Gibbon  delivered  his  argument 
in  favour  of  an  hereditary  monarchy.  *  Of  the  various 
forms  of  government  which  have  prevailed  in  this  world, 
an  hereditary  monarchy  seems  to  present  the  fairest  scope 
for  ridicule.  Is  it  possible  to  relate,  without  an  indignant 
smile,  that,  on  the  father's  decease,  the  property  of  a  nation, 
like  that  of  a  drove  of  oxen,  descends  to  his  infant  son,  as 
yet  unknown  to  mankind  and  to  himself;  and  that  the 
bravest  warriors  and  the  wisest  statesmen,  relinquishing 
their  natural  right  to  empire,  approach  the  royal  cradle 
with  bended  knees  and  protestations  of  inviolable  fidelity  ? 
Satire  and  declamation  may  paint  these  obvious  topics  in 
the  most  dazzling  colours,  but  our  serious  thoughts  will 
respect  a  useful  prejudice  that  establishes  a  rule  of  succes- 
sion independent  of  the  passions  of  mankind  ;  and  we  shall 
cheerfully  acquiesce  in  any  expedient  which  deprives  the 
multitude  of  the  dangerous,  and  indeed  the  ideal  power  of 
giving  themselves  a  master.' 


56  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

In  Gibbon's  days  the  discovery  of  a  removable  master 
had  not  been  made. 

Debate  should  have  for  its  object  the  vindication  of 
some  truth  seriously  disputed.  The  Dutchman,  who  re- 
garded debate  as  a  duty,  being  pressed  as  to  the  value  of  a 
dog  for  whose  loss  he  had  brought  an  action,  said,  'No- 
thing; but  let  him  pay  for  it.'  When  his  adversary  was 
asked  whether  it  was  true  that  he  killed  the  dog,  he  said, 
'To  be  sure  I  did,  but  let  him  J>rove  it,'  which  was  foolish, 
but  not  more  silly  than  many  disputants  of  pretension,  who 
will  dispute  for  disputation  sake,  where  there  is  nothing  real 
or  useful  to  contend  for. 

For  the  adjustment  of  a  difference  a  man  should  under- 
state his  case — should  make  no  material  assertion  unaccom- 
panied by  the  proof — make  the  fairest  allowance  for  his 
rival's  excitement  (if  he  be  excited),  put  a  fair  interpreta- 
tion on  his  words  and  acts.  All  whose  suffrages  are  worth 
having  will  make  just  judgment.  The  reason  of  so  many 
departures  from  this  rule  is  the  want  of  courage,  or  the 
want  of  sense.  It  is  the  opinion  of  the  ignorant  that  if 
a  man  does  not  bluster  and  retort,  he  is  deficient  in  spirit. 
This  apprehension  often  betrays  weak  men  into  violence, 
and  to  prove  themselves  independent  they  become  rude 
and  insolent — whereas  courage  pursues  its  own  way  with- 
out ostentation,  preserves  its  independence,  corrects  mis- 
representation, repairs  any  injury  it  may  have  unwittingly 
done,  and  answers  slander  (if  there  be  slander)  with  the  truth. 
No  wise  man  answers  a  fool  according  to  his  folly.  He  shows 
that  it  t's  folly,  and  abandons  it  to  die  by  its  own  hands. 

Hamilton's  Parliamentary  Logic  gives  maxims,  which 
that  experienced  tactician  had  treasured  up,  observed,  or 
invented,  many  unworthy,  some  shrewd  : — 

'  State  what  you  censure  by  the  soft  names  of  those  who 
would  apologise  for  it. 

'  In  putting  a  question  to  your  adversary,  let  it  be  the  lasf 
thing  you  say. 


LAWS   OF   DEBATE.  57 

'  Distinguish  real  from  avowed  reasons  of  a  thing.  This 
makes  a  fine  and  brilliant  fund  of  argument. 

'Upon  every  argument  consider  the  misrepresentations 
which  your  opponent  will  probably  make  of  it. 

'  If  your  case  is  too  bad,  call  in  aid  the  party  :  if  the  party 
is  bad,  call  in  aid  the  cause.* 

'  Nothing  disgusts  a  popular  assembly  more  than  being 
apprised  of  your  intention  to  speak  long.' 

Having  had  experience  in  the  ways  of  adversaries — the 
unscrupulous  and  the  fair — I  noticed  the  rules  they  ordin- 
arily followed,  and  found,  as  Wordsworth's  little  girl  said 
of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  '  We  are  seven,'  which  were 
these : — 

1.  To  show  that  the  objection  made  against  what  you 
mainly  said  is  wrong,  and  that  you  were  in  the  right.  For 
this  course  to  succeed  one  must  be  very  clear  upon  the 
subject,  and  make  it  very  clear  to  others  that  it  is  the 
objector  alone  who  is  in  error.  If  this  cannot  be  done,  the 
matter  requires  some  consideration. 

2.  Not  to  take  any  notice  of  the  objection  raised ;  but  if 
he  who  advances  it  is  a  person  whose  opinion  has  weight, 
his  objection  will  have  force,  and  tell  against  you,  whether 
you  take  notice  of  it,  or  not. 

3.  To  notice  the  objection  made,  and  affect  to  see  no- 
thing in  it.  But  it  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind  that,  if  other 
people  happen  to  see  something  in  it,  your  alleged  want  of 
penetration  will  not  serve  you. 

4.  To  admit  there  is  '  something  in  it,'  but  maintain  that  it 
is  a  mere  misapprehension  of  your  meaning.  In  that  case, 
you  must  explain  what  your  meaning  was,  or  that  expedient 
will  not  answer, 

5.  To  allege  that  your  own  statement  is  open  to  two 
distinct   interpretations,    and    argue    that   your    critic   has 

*  '  If  neither  is  good,'  says  Hamilton,  'wound  your  opponent,'  which 
may  be  Parliamentary,  but  is  discreditable  in  the  speaker  and  a  waste 
of  public  time. 


58  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

adopted  the  wrong  one.  This  course,  however,  is  attended 
with  some  risk ;  since  it  is  the  duty  of  a  speaker  to  be  aware 
of  double  meanings,  to  choose  one,  and  leave  the  hearer  in 
no  manner  of  doubt  which  sense  was  intended,  and  to  fix 
that  sense  so  that  the  meaning  could  not  be  intelligently 
misunderstood. 

6.  Admit  that  your  statement  was  open  to  some  objec- 
tion, making  light  of  it,  giving  the  hearer  the  impression  it 
was  very  unimportant,  and  that  your  critic  could  not  have 
anything  very  serious  on  his  mind  to  make  so  *  much  ado 
about  nothing' — by  which  means  the  unobservant  hearer 
will  be  hardly  sensible  that  you  have  fallen  into  any  error 
at  all,  and  even  be  disposed  to  regard  the  objector  to  what 
you  have  said,  as  a  trivial  and  captious  commentator.  But 
the  intelligent  observer  will  distrust  you. 

7.  The  remaining  course  open  is  to  admit  frankly  you 
were  in  the  wrong.  Careless  phraseology,  an  inaccurate 
argument,  or  a  conflicting  statement  (whether  fallen  into 
unawares  or  not),  is  an  imposition  upon  the  mind  of  the 
hearer,  and  a  waste  of  language,  since  it  weakens  and 
obscures  the  proper  argument.  Therefore,  the  right  thing 
is  to  express  yourself  under  obligations  to  an  auditor  who 
pays  you  the  great  compliment  of  considering  what  you  have 
said,  and  takes  the  trouble  to  amend  what  has  been  unwit- 
tingly left  defective. 

Persons,  really  honest-minded,  do  often  find  a  difficulty 
in  frankly  admitting  that  they  have  made  a  mistake ;  but  it 
is  far  better  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  admitting  an  error, 
which  you  see  to  be  such,  than  to  foolishly  persist  that  you 
are  right,  and  to  persist  in  the  foolishness  of  the  mis-state- 
ment which  everybody  sees  to  be  so,  and  which  you  ought 
to  see  yourself.  To  try  to  create  the  impression  that  you 
are  never  in  error,  is  to  pretend  to  infallibility — it  is  to 
pretend  that  you  know  everything,  that  you  know  it  always, 
and  that  you  are  so  perfect  that  you  never  forget  it  or  over- 
look it.     Everybody  knows  that  there  never  was  any  person 


LAWS   OF   DEBATE  59 

of  this  description  ;  and  to  pretend  to  be,  or  to  imagine  that 
you  are,  such  a  person  is  to  betray  to  every  reflecting  reader 
that  you  are  ignorant  as  well  as  conceited.  A  real  lover  of 
truth  is  glad  to  have  any  error  into  which  he  may  have 
fallen  pointed  out,  that  he  may  avoid  it  in  the  future. 


CHAPTER    XI 

PERSONALITIES    THE   DIGRESSIONS    OF   DEBATE 

Controversy,  though  the  pathway  to  truth  and  final  test  of  it, 
is  an  unwelcome  word  in  many  ears.  This  is  because  it  is  so 
often  protracted  and  unsatisfactory.  It  is  protracted  through 
digression,  and  unsatisfactory,  being  so  often  disfigured  by 
personalities,  which  mainly  cause  digression  and  ill-feeling. 
Things  evil,  as  well  as  things  good,  do  not  come  by  chance. 
Disease  as  well  as  health  has  its  conditions  ;  and  personali- 
ties, however  capricious  and  irregular  they  may  seem,  have 
their  laws.  St  Jerome  said :  '  If  an  offence  come  out  of 
the  truth,  better  the  offence  come  than  that  the  truth  be 
concealed.'  There  is  no  natural  offence  in  truth.  The 
offence  is  generally  put  into  it  by  personalities,  which 
cause  digressions  from  the  truth  into  hateful  and  dis- 
honouring imputations. 

The  Edinburgh  News  lately  turned  to  the  file  of  London 
papers  as  they  existed  in  the  pure  and  happy  days  of  a  four- 
penny  stamp,  and  found  a  licence  of  speech  quite  edifying. 
Thus  the  Times  calls  its  neighbour,  the  Morning  Chronicle^ 
'that  squirt  of  filthy  water,'  and  the  Chronicle,  not  to  be 
behind,  calls  the  Post  'that  slop-pail  of  corruption.'  The 
Standard  describes  the  Giobe  as  '  our  blubber-head  contem- 
porary.' The  Morning  Herald  accosts  its  neighbour,  the 
Courier,  as  'that  spavined  old  hack,'  while  the  Morning 
Advertiser  hurls  its  wrath  against  the  Times  as  '  that  bully  of 

60 


PERSONALITIES   THE   DIGRESSIONS   OF   DEBATE     6 1 

Berkshire  and  braggadocio  of  Printing  House  Square.'  The 
Times,  not  to  be  outdone,  commenced  one  of  its  leaders  on 
the  13th  of  June  1835,  with'  The  Liberal  liars,' and  then 
turning  on  the  Chronicle,  continues,  '  A  disgraceful  morning 
print,  which  actually  feeds  on  falsehood  and  lies';  then 
going  into  the  subject,  it  adds,  'The  smaller  rascal,  Mr 
Gingall,  copies  the  paragraph  from  the  larger  blackguard.' 
The  Times  of  the  same  date,  elsewhere  referring  to  its 
opponent,  says,  '  The  community  must  be  shocked  to  know 
that  there  are  such  beings  as  these  scribblers  out  of  the 
treadmill,  and  because  every  exposure  of  the  ragamuffins 
gives  to  foreigners  an  additional  proof  that  there  have  crept 
into  the  press  of  this  country  a  number  of  scoundrels,  who 
not  only  are  unfit  for  the  society  of  gentlemen,  but  who 
would  be  a  disgrace  to  the  vilest  coteries  of  Europe.'  To 
this  the  Stajidard  retorts,  '  It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that 
the  habits  of  writing  down  to  the  ignorance  and  below  the 
brutality  of  the  rabble,  which  the  Times  has  acquired  by 
long  experience,  acting,  of  course,  upon  original  ignorance 
and  intuitive  brutality,  has  rendered  this  journal  a  more 
powerful  organ  of  excitement  than  a  whole  workshop  of 
railers.' 

This  was  the  way  in  which  '  gentlemen  wrote  for  gentle- 
men '  in  those  days ;  and  all  agreed  in  one  thing,  that  the 
abolition  of  the  fourpenny  stamp  would  lower  the  press,  as 
though  it  could  fall  into  a  lower  depth  than  that  in  which  the 
fourpenny  stamp  writers  burrowed.  The  press  has  been  freed 
from  all  taxation,  and  the  standard  of  the  cheap  press  is  far 
higher  than  in  its  dearest  days.  The  working-class  have 
found  a  better  way  of  expression.  Nevertheless,  the  poli- 
tical and  ecclesiastical  controversy  of  our  'belters'  still 
presents  samples  of  the  old  manner. 

Literature  has  not  always  had  a  civil  tongue  in  its  head, 
and  was  ready  to  assist  political  animosity.  Bute  pensioned 
Dr  Johnson  and  Dr  Shebbeare,  which  caused  the  wits  to  say 
he  had  pensioned  a  He-bear  and  a  She-bear.     Dr  Shebbeare 


62  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

had  been  in  the  pillory  and  lost  his   ears,  which  was  the 
point  of  these  Unes — 

Witness,  ye  Hills,  ye  Johnsons,  Scots,  Shebbeares, 
List  to  my  call,  for  some  of  you  have  ears. 

Byron  and  Shelley  disagreed  widely  on  several  questions, 
but  that  made  no  difference  in  their  regard  for  each  other. 
Byron  had  hatreds — Shelley  had  fanaticisms.  Vegetarianism 
was  one.  Byron  did  not  hesitate  to  deny  outright  Shelley's 
coreal  ideal.     Byron  sang — 

Man's  a  carnivorous  production, 

And  must  have  meals  ;  at  least  one  meal  a  day. 
He  cannot  live,  like  woodcocks,  upon  suction, 

But,  like  the  shark  and  tiger,  must  have  prey  ; 
Although  his  anatomical  construction 

Bears  vegetables  in  a  grumbling  way, 
Your  labouring  people  think,  beyond  all  question, 

Beef,  veal  and  mutton  better  for  digestion. 

Shelley,  walking  down  Bond  Street,  composing  a  poem 
and  munching  a  new  roll  for  his  dinner,  would  be  likely  to 
produce  dyspeptic  verse  that  day.  Shelley  wrote  no  line  of 
malice  in  reply  to  Byron.  But  then  these  poets  were 
gentlemen. 

One  way  to  disarm  personalities  when  they  come  is  to 
brave  them.  To  court  them  is  fatal  to  yourself;  to  retaliate 
fatal  to  union.  The  partisan  of  a  cause  ought  to  be  able 
to  dare  all  opinions.  And  all  opinions  might  be  dared  by 
those  in  the  right.  There  can  be  no  quarrel  unless  two 
parties  engage  in  it.  And  it  is  always  in  the  power  of  one 
party  to  make  a  quarrel  difficult  by  refusing  to  be  a  party  to 
it.  No  man  can  quarrel  with  another  without  the  other's 
consent.  Hence  the  veto  of  peace,  if  not  of  amity,  is  always  ■ 
in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  disputants.  It  is  often  a  duty; 
it  is  often  indispensable  to  notice  individual  error.  But  the 
discharge  of  such  a  duty  would  not  be  so  distasteful  to  the 
public  as  it  now  is,  were  it  not  for  the  personally  disparaging 


PERSONALITIES   THE   DIGRESSIONS   OF   DEBATE    6$ 

manner  in  which  it  is  generally  done.  If,  when  objections 
to  a  public  man  must  be  made,  the  points  were  fairly  selected 
and  urged,  without  ill-will,  the  criticism  would  be  felt 
to  be  useful  and  tolerable.  Instead  of  this  course  a  mis- 
cellaneous fire  is  often  extended  to  every  imaginable  fault, 
and  conjectures  called  in  when  facts  are  exhausted,  until 
what  was,  or  should  be,  public  instruction  becomes  a 
gratification  of  private  resentment. 

Malevolence  is  not  necessary  on  the  platform,  nor  in 
the  press.  Canadian  journalists  told  me  that  Mr  Goldwin 
Smith,  by  showing  in  his  own  writing  how  a  man  of  genius 
could  be  effective  without  employing  dishonouring  epithets, 
had  raised  the  character  of  the  whole  Canadian  press. 

It  is  not  just  to  refer  to  a  man's  lameness  of  body ;  but 
lameness  of  mind  may  be  complained  of,  because  that  is 
remediable.  A  lame  man  would  not  enter  himself  in  a 
public  race  with  agile  men,  and  if  he  enters  into  public 
controversy  he  must  be  assumed  to  have  mental  nimbleness. 
But,  if  he  is  always  behind  in  his  argument,  his  deficiency 
in  pace  may  be  ascribed  to  natural  causes — to  lameness 
of  understanding.  Misfortunes  of  nature  are  indefensible 
allusions.  Canning  has  not  been  forgiven  for  alluding 
to  a  political  opponent  as  the  'revered  and  ruptured 
Ogden.'  The  permanent  reason  for  avoiding  outrage  is 
that  the  mugwumps  who  can  imitate  nothing  else,  can 
imitate  unpleasantnesses. 

The  debater  should  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  an  opponent 
who  introduces  personalities.  It  is  the  device  by  which  an 
astute  adversary  allures  his  assailant  from  his  gun — so  that 
he  is  not  at  hand  to  discharge  it — when  the  enemy  is  in 
front  of  it. 

Civilisation  has  imposed  laws  on  contests,  and  even  on 
war.  An  invading  army  must  not  poison  the  wells  of  the 
enemy;  a  duellist  must  stand  at  the  assigned  distance 
before  he  fires ;  a  prize-fighter  is  forbidden  to  hit  below 
the  belt ;  neither  man,  nor  horse,  nor  boat  is  allowed  to 


64  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

foul  a  competitor  in  a  race.  But  in  controversy  there  is 
no  law,  save  that  of  honour,  to  prevent  an  adversary 
assailing  an  opponent  by  dishonouring  imputations. 

Once,  in  the  United  States  Assembly,  a  member  in 
audience,  being  weary  of  listening  to  the  member  in  pos- 
session of  the  floor,  rose  and  said,  '  Mr  Speaker,  I  should 
like  to  know  how  long  that  blackguard  is  to  go  on  tiring  me 
to  death  in  this  manner.'  In  the  Irish  House  of  Commons, 
Mr  Grattan  said  of  Mr  Corrie,  '  I  will  not  call  him  villain, 
\  because  he  is  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer;  I  will  not 
call  him  liar,  because  he  is  a  Privy  Councillor ;  but  I  will 
say  of  him,  that  he  is  one  who  has  taken  advantage  of  the 
privileges  of  this  House  to  utter  language  to  which,  in  any 
other  place,  my  answer  would  have  been  a  blow.'  A  duel 
was  the  immediate  result.  And  if  a  duel  was  intended 
the  language  was  well  chosen  for  the  purpose. 

De  Morgan  relates  that  the  late  Professor  Vince  was  once 
arguing  at  Cambridge  against  duelling,  and  some  one  said, 
'Well,  but,  Professor,  what  would  you  do  if  anyone  called 
you  a  liar  ? '  '  Sir,'  said  the  fine  old  fellow,  '  I  should  tell 
him  to  prove  it,  and  if  he  did  prove  it,  I  should  be  ashamed 
of  myself,  and  if  he  didn't  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
himself.' 

The  obvious  laws  to  be  observed  in  controversy  seem 
to  be  these  : — 

1.  To  consult  the  improvement  of  those  opposed  to  you, 
^)^  and  to  this  end  argue  not  for  resentment,  or  gratification, 

or  pride,  or  vanity,  but  for  their  enlightenment. 

2.  When  surmising  motives  do  not  surmise  the  worst, 
but  adopt  the  best  construction  the  case  admits. 

3.  To  distinguish  between  the  personalities  which  impugn 
the  judgment  and  those  that  criminate  character,  and  not  to 
advance  accusations  affecting  the  judgment  of  an  adversary 
without  distinct  and  indisputable  proof;  and  never  to 
assail  character  (where  it  must  be  done)  on  suspicion,  pro- 
bability, belief  or  hkelihood. 


PERSONALITIES  THE  DIGRESSIONS  OF  DEBATE     65 

4.  Never  make  an  incriminating  imputation  unless  some 
public  good  is  to  come  out  of  it.  It  is  not  enough  that 
a  charge  is  true,  it  must  be  useful  to  prefer  it  before  it  can 
be  justifiably  made. 

5.  Be  so  sure  of  your  case  as  to  be  able  to  defy  the 
judgment  of  mankind,  and  when  assailed,  maintain  self- 
respect  in  reply,  not  forgetting  justice  to  those  to  whom 
you  are  opposed. 

Leigh  Hunt  prophesied  long  ago  that  the  old  philosophic 
conviction  would  revive  among  us,  that  '  the  errors  of  man- 
kind arise  rather  from  the  want  of  knowledge  than  from 
defect  of  goodness.'  Stupidity  can  be  informed,  ignorance 
can  be  enlightened,  but  the  collision  of  interest,  passion 
and  self-will,  can  destroy  association,  until  men  acquire 
justice  in  speech,  and  equity  towards  others. 

The  necessity  of  enforcing  this  most  practical  part  of 
rhetoric  (the  Rhetoric  of  Dispute),  which  is  taught  in  no 
School,  Mechanics'  or  Literary  Institution,  is  evidenced  in 
the  fact  that  an  impartial,  impersonal  and  dispassionate  tone 
is  in  many  eyes  almost  fatal  to  prosperity  in  newspaper  and 
periodical  literature.  To  the  uneducated  populace  nothing 
that  is  just  seems  spirited.  He  who  is  not  offensively  per- 
sonal is  pronounced  tame.  The  rancorous  are  most  relished. 
The  reason  is  that  most  men,  when  stung  by  a  sense  of 
injury,  are  naturally  precipitated  from  extreme  to  extreme. 
Their  opinions,  when  sincere,  are  not  produced  by  the 
ordinary  law  of  intellectual  births,  by  induction  or  inference, 
but  are  equivocally  generated  by  the  heat  of  fervid  emotion, 
wrought  upon  by  some  sense  of  unbearable  oppression 
But  all  this  changes  with  the  growth  of  knowledge.  Art 
discards  the  gaudy  colours  of  the  savage  :  so  rhetoric  discards 
savage  invective.     Civilisation  implies  a  sense  of  proportion. 

Personalities,  even  those  which  relate  to  defects  of  under- 
standing, are  allowable  within  the  limits  of  not  impugning 
sanity ;  but  not  personal  allusions  which  relate  to  defect  of 
honour,  or  veracity.     If  you  call  a  man  an  idiot,  you  pass 

E 


66  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

the  limit  of  allowable  personalities  of  the  mind.  He  who 
thinks  another  an  idiot,  should  be  silent  with  regard  to  him. 
If  a  person  be  an  idiot  it  is  of  no  use  arguing  with  him. 
He  is  incapable  of  reasoning.  To  use  such  a  term  towards 
an  adversary  is  to  stop  debate — if  you  believe  what  you  say. 
The  moment  this  word  is  said  the  friends  of  the  alleged 
imbecile  are  up  in  arms  to  resent  the  insult  to  his  under- 
standing, and  probably  the  '  idiot '  himself  leaps  up  to  retort 
upon  his  accuser.  Then  there  is  an  end  of  the  subject  in 
debate.  Partisans  digress  from  it  to  join  in  the  vindica- 
tion of  the  assailed,  or  of  the  assailant. 

The  moment  one  person  accuses  another  of  want  of 
honour  or  veracity,  the  reply  is  a  blow,  or  a  duel,  which  are 
held  to  be  justifiable.  If  the  term  is  believed  it  destroys 
the  accused,  and  he  feels  justified  in  destroying  his  accuser. 
Dishonouring  charges  should  properly  go  before  a  magistrate. 
A  charge  of  personal  dishonour  is  a  breach  of  the  peace, 
and  the  law  court,  and  not  the  platform,  is  the  more  fit- 
ting place  to  make  it  To  introduce  offensive  accusation 
is  to  terminate  debate  by  a  pernicious  digression,  and 
arouses  recrimination  and  passion,  through  which  the  rays 
of  truth  penetrate  not.  This  consequence  is  so  well  under- 
stood that  he  who  causes  such  digression  may  be  suspected 
of  intending  it. 

The  mischief  of  personalities  which  offend  is  that  persons 
who  cannot  argue  can  recriminate.  A  hundred  persons  can 
make  imputations  for  ten  who  can  reason.  The  discovery 
of  truth  in  the  maze  of  words  and  diversity  of  view  requires 
concentration  of  attention.  But  irrelevancies  require  no 
thought  and  are  popular  with  the  majority  of  hearers  who 
have  not  reflected  on  these  things,  or  to  whom  irrelevancies 
are  a  relief. 


CHAPTER   XII 

POLICY     OF     DEBATE 

There  are  three  points  of  policy  in  debate. 

1.  The  first  is  the  search  for  the  truth — its  recognition 

when  found,  whether  in  the  mouth  of  your  adversary,  or 

elsewhere.     As  Dr  Johnson  says  in  his  '  Irene ' : — 

Be  virtuous  ends  pursued  by  virtuous  means, 
Nor  think  the  intention  sanctifies  the  deed. 

No  talent,  no  genius  is  entitled  to  esteem,  except  as  the  use 
to  which  it  is  put  is  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  all. 

2.  Since  the  adversary  is  the  friend  of  truth,  he  should 
never  be  outraged  or  humiliated,  or  he  will  withdraw  himself 
from  the  arena,  or  his  friends  will  if  he  does  not.  Then 
debate  is  ended  and  discredited  in  public  estimation. 

3.  Because  discussion  is  the  agency  of  establishing  truth, 
the  credit  of  debate  should  always  be  in  the  minds  of  both 
disputants.  Be  not  contemptuous  or  impatient  of  those 
whose  faculties  are  not  '  on  sight,'  or  perhaps  non-existent. 
I  would  listen  a  reasonable  time  to  a  madman.  *  Light  is 
still  light,  whether  it  pass  through  coloured  glass  or  even  a 
cracked  window.' 

Whether  ridicule  and  satire  may  be  employed  in  debate, 
are  questions  of  judgment  as  well  as  rule.  '  Cicero  con- 
descended to  employ  ridicule  against  certain  chimeras.' 
'Condescended'  is  Gibbon's  word,  admitting  or  implying 
that  ridicule  is  at  best  but  one  of  the  lower  forms  of  argu- 
ment.    Satire,  in  the  hands  of  Lucian,  was.  Gibbon  thought, 

67 


68  PUBLIC  SPEAKING   AND  DEBATE 

a  much  more  adequate  as  well  as  a  more  efficacious  weapon. 
Shaftesbury  regarded  ridicule  as  'one  of  those  principal 
lights '  under  which  things  are  to  be  viewed  in  order  to  their 
full  recognition.  Truth,  it  is  supposed,  may  bear  all  lights. 
So  it  will,  but  the  holders  of  the  ridiculed  truth  will  not. 
Most  things,  owing  to  time  or  circumstance — some  intrin- 
sically— have  an  absurd  side.  But  it  requires  dexterity  to 
show  it  without  giving  offence.  In  politics  it  requires  con- 
summate art  to  employ  ridicule  without  outraging  those  held 
up  to  laughter.  In  religion  it  is  never  successful,  if  the 
object  is  conversion.  Instructive  ridicule  is  so  difificult ;  and 
foolish  ridicule  is  so  easy,  and  commonly  coarse  and  buffoon- 
ish,  that,  without  the  instinct  and  cultivation  of  art,  ridicule 
should  not  be  attempted.  One  rule  is  clear — a  cause  in  a 
minority  should  never  ridicule  the  cause  of  the  majority.  The 
wise  profit  by  Coleridge's  warning ;  '  Truth  is  a  good  dog, 
but  beware  of  barking  too  closely  at  the  heels  of  error,  lest 
you  get  your  brains  kicked  out.'  Those  in  the  majority, 
political  and  ecclesiastical,  employ  ridicule  against  the 
minority,  without  scruple  or  mercy,  but  are  furious  when  it 
is  employed  against  themselves,  and  resent  it  dangerously. 
Only  now  and  then  a  man  of  genius  does  it  on  good  part 
and  amusingly.  It  is  said  by  omniscient  and  self-complacent 
writers,  that  'to  argue  with  folly  is  to  make  it  feel  important.' 
But  what  one  may  deem  folly  may  be  matter  of  honest  and 
serious  conviction  on  the  part  of  others.  The  subject  of  our 
ridicule,  or  satire,  may  be  sacred  to  them :  and  there  is 
neither  sense  nor  self-respect  in  inflicting  pain,  outrage  or 
humiliation  upon  sincere  persons,  however  foolish  we  may 
deem  them.  A  master  in  advocacy,  John  Stuart  Mill,  held 
that,  '  in  general,  opinions,  contrary  to  those  received,  can 
only  obtain  a  hearing  by  studied  moderation  of  language 
and  the  most  cautious  avoidance  of  unnecessary  offence,  from 
which  they  hardly  ever  deviate,  even  in  the  slightest  degree, 
without  losing  ground.'  Sarcasm  is  mocking,  and  when 
without  bitterness  is  enlivening.     Ridicule  holds  persons  or 


POLICY  OF  DEBATE  69 

things  up   to   laughter   or  contempt.     Satire   is   diverting 

since  it  reflects  on  the  intellectual  oversight  of  adversaries. 

Ridicule  is  more  common,  because  malice  may  inspire  it. 

Satire  is  more  difficult,  since  it  is  futile  without  wit. 

Satire,  like  a  polished  razor  keen, 

Wounds  with  a  touch  which  is  scarcely  felt  or  seen. 

Sarcasm,  ridicule  and  satire  have  always  been  regarded  as 

bright  weapons  of  controversy,  but  they  require  to  be  used 

with  judgment  and,  above  all,  with  good  temper. 

It  is  well  to  avoid  words  which  may  mean  more  than  you 
can  prove.  Be  chary  of  saying  a  thing  is  '  very '  good  or 
'  very '  exact,  when  it  may  be  merely  good,  and  perhaps  not 
that :  its  exactness  may  hardly  come  up  to  the  average,  when 
looked  into.  '  Most '  is  as  dangerous  as  '  very.'  It  requires 
wide  knowledge  to  say  a  thing  is  *  most '  excellent.  The  word 
'none  '  and  'all,'  'every'  and  '  always,'  should  be  used  very 
warily.  It  may  require  you  to  go  over  all  mankind,  over  all 
time,  and  every  event,  to  justify  such  wide-reaching  terms. 

If  you  invite  opposition,  do  it  with  circumspection.  The 
value  of  free  speech  is  too  great  to  be  trifled  with.  Seek 
conflict  only  with  sincere  men.  Concede  to  your  opponent 
the  first  word  and  the  last.  Let  him  appoint  the  chairman. 
Let  him  speak  double  time  if  he  desires  it.  Debate  is 
objected  to  as  an  exhibition  in  which  disputants  try  to 
surprise,  outwit,  take  advantage  of,  and  discomfit  each  other. 
To  obviate  this  objection,  explain  to  your  opponent,  before- 
hand if  you  can,  the  outline  of  the  course  you  intend  to  pursue, 
acquaint  him  with  the  books  you  shall  quote,  the  authorities 
you  shall  cite,  the  propositions  you  shall  endeavour  to  prove, 
and  the  concessions  you  shall  ask.  And  do  this  without  ex- 
pecting the  same  at  his  hands.  He  will  not  now  be  taken  un- 
awares. He  will  be  pre-warned  and  pre-armed.  He  will  have 
time  to  prepare,  and  if  the  truth  is  in  him,  it  ought  to  come  out. 

If  you  feel  that  you  cannot  give  all  these  advantages  to 
your  opponent,  suspect  yourself  and  your  side  of  the 
question.     Every   conscientious  and  decided  man  beUeves 


70  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

his  views  to  be  true,  and  if  consistent  he  believes  them  to 
be  impregnable.  Neither  in  minutes,  months  nor  years 
are  they  to  be  refuted.  Then  a  man  so  persuaded  may 
concede  advantages  to  his  adversary,  and  enable  him  to  arm 
himself  beforehand. 

In  another  particular  discussions  were  esteemed  unsatis- 
factory. When  statement  and  reply  have  been  made,  then 
came  the  reply  to  the  reply,  and  then  the  reply  to  that,  till 
the  cavil  seemed  perplexing,  tiresome  and  endless. 

Now,  the  object  of  discussion  is  not  the  vexatious  chase 
of  an  opponent,  but  the  contrastive  statement  of  opinion. 
Therefore  endeavour  to  select  main  points,  to  state  them 
strongly  and  clearly,  and  when  your  opponent  replies  be  con- 
tent to  leave  his  arguments  side  by  side  with  your  own,  for 
the  judgment  of  the  auditors.  Do  not  disparage  an 
opponent,  mis-state  his  views,  or  strain  his  words,  and 
thus,  for  the  sake  of  a  verbal  triumph,  produce  ill-feel- 
ing. Your  sole  business  is  with  what  he  says,  not  how  he 
says  it,  nor  why  he  says  it.  Your  aim  should  be  that  the 
audience  should  lose  sight  of  the  speakers,  and  be  possessed 
with  the  subject ;  and  that  those  who  come  the  partisans  of 
persons  shall  depart  the  partisans  of  principles.  The  victory 
in  a  debate  lies  not  in  lowering  an  opponent,  but  in  raising 
the  subject  in  public  estimation.  Controversial  wisdom  lies 
not  in  destroying  the  adversary,  but  in  destroying  his  error 
— not  in  making  him  ridiculous,  but  in  making  the  audience 
wise. 

A  principle  is  a  pathway.  Deviation  is  error  and  waste  of 
time.  Intellectual  courtesy  to  persons  is  consideration  for 
others ;  it  is  conceding  to  others  the  right  of  acting  on  their 
convictions.  But  courtesy  does  not  apply  to  giving  up 
your  own  conviction  nor  in  concealing  it.  He  who  is  with- 
out principle  is  without  any  guide,  not  knowing  what  to  do 
himself.  Relinquishing  or  concealing  personal  principle  is 
being  useless  to  others,  who  are  instructed  by  knowing  their 
neighbours'  path  as  well  as  knowing  their  own. 


POLICY   OF   DEBATE  7 1 

Never  invent  opponents — never  invent  the  opinions  of 
opponents.  Take  real  ones.  Tiie  dangerous  preference  of 
imagination  to  reality  is  perhaps  nowhere  so  apparent  as  in 
the  construction  of  controversial  books.  Authors  satisfy 
themselves  with  inventing  the  arguments  of  their  opponents, 
when  the  easiest  and  most  satisfactory  course  is  to  extract 
the  raost  powerful  reasoning  the  other  side  has  produced ; 
by  this  course  real  objectors  can  be  answered  instead  of. 
fictit.ous  ones. 

A  perpetual  device,  or  error  of  controversialists,  is  to  state 
as  a  fact  against  an  adversary  their  i?iference  from  his 
doctrines,  and  declare  that  he  means  what  they  say.  After 
a  while,  if  the  accusers  have  a  powerful  party  on  their  side, 
tiiey  will  assert  that  the  very  terms  used,  in  such  inference, 
were  the  original  language  of  their  adversary.  This  used  to 
be  constantly  done  with  applause  in  political,  ecclesiastical 
and  sectarian  controversy.  The  practice  has  not  wholly  died 
out  yet.  The  late  Mr  Delane  inferred  from  Mr  Cobden's 
expressed  opinion  in  favour  of  land  reform,  that  he  would 
parcel  out  the  land  of  the  country  among  the  people,  and 
said  in  the  Tifiies  that  Mr  Cobden  advised  this  course — 
which  was  never  in  Mr  Cobden's  mind  nor  in  his  words. 
Mr  Delane  put  forth  his  own  inference  as  Mr  Cobden's 
actual  avowal,  which  he  indignantly  and  successfully  re- 
pudiated in  letters  which  became  famous. 

Controversialists  make  much  ado  about  the  onus  probandi, 
meaning  the  burden  of  proof,  which  rests  with  him  who 
makes  an  assertion.  He  who  denies  what  is  asserted  is 
often,  without  reason,  called  upon  to  prove  his  negative. 
Beyond  remarking  that  it  is  the  province  of  the  assertor  to 
prove,  accept  the  logically  unfair  demand  and  give  the 
reasons  why  you  hold  the  negative  opinion.  This  meets 
the  case  as  far  as  a  negationist  can  meet  it.  It  continues 
the  discussion,  and  compels  it  to  proceed,  and  gives  the 
negationist  the  opportunity  of  becoming  the  assailant  by 
request  of  his  adversary. 


72  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

Debate  requires  self-possession — a  power  to  think  on 
your  legs.  But  even  in  debate  the  victory  is  oftener 
with  the  foregone  than  with  the  impromptu  thinker.  A 
man  who  knows  his  subject  well  will  be  forearmed.  He 
alone  can  distinctly  see  the  points  in  dispute,  and  the  nature 
of  the  proof  or  disproof  necessary  to  decide  the  question. 

Two  persons  of  opposite  opinions  often  mistake  the  way 
of  coming  to  a  common  understanding :  as,  for  instance, 
when  one  speaks  at  the  other  instead  of  explaining  his  own 
views  to  him.  Each  expects  the  other  to  come  over  to  him, 
which  neither  is  inclined  to  do,  nor  intends  to  do.  A,  in 
expecting  B  to  come  to  him,  assumes  that  on  the  part  of  bis 
opponent  there  exists  a  predisposition  for  his  views.  This 
should  never  be  assumed.  It  is  the  first  endeavour  of  a 
foreseeing  propagandist  to  create  it  if  it  does  not  exist,  and 
strengthen  it  if  it  does — and  whether  it  exists  or  not,  he 
should  always  reason  as  though  it  did  not.  The  business 
of  A,  the  converter,  is  to  meet  B  on  the  platform  B  stands 
upon,  to  examine  his  principles,  study  his  views  and  turn  of 
thought  until  he  finds  some  common  ground,  if  such  there 
be,  of  faith,  morals,  opinion,  or  practice,  with  which  he 
can  identify  himself. 

There  is  no  easier  method  of  commencing  a  conversation 
than  by  asking  a  question.  There  is  no  safer  introduction 
to  an  argument  than  by  asking  an  opponent  what  he  means, 
where  his  meaning  is  doubtful.  Time  and  circumstance 
have  given  new  usage,  new  senses,  and  new  associations  of 
idea,  to  words  that  once  had  but  one  meaning.  Most 
words  have  now  many  meanings.  Where  the  sense  in 
which  a  word  is  used  is  open  to  doubt — do  not  assume  a 
meaning,  but  inquire  the  sense  in  which  an  opponent 
employs  it. 

The  Socratic  method  of  disputation  or  artful  questioning 
(of  which  Zeno  the  Eleatic  was  the  author),  by  which  an 
opponent  is  entrapped  into  concessions,  and  thus  confuted, 
IS   rather  fit  for   wranglers   and   sophists   than    reasoners,. 


POLICY   OF   DEBATE  73 

There  is  ground  for  believing  that  Socrates  conde- 
scended to  this  course  often  at  the  expense  of  ingenuous- 
ness. It  is  said  in  his  defence  that  he  did  it  not  as  the 
sophists,  for  the  sake  of  confounding  virtue,  but  for  the 
purer  purpose  of  confounding  dexterous  vice.  It  is,  how- 
ever, beneath  the  dignity  of  a  reasoner  to  betray  his 
opponent  into  the  truth. 

Questioning,  however,  is  an  essential  instrument.  A 
high  authority,  Dr  Arnold,  has  put  this  in  a  useful  light : — 
*An  inquiring  spirit  is  not  a  presumptuous  one,  but  the 
very  contrary.  He  whose  whole  recorded  life  was  intended 
to  be  our  perfect  example,  is  described  as  gaining  instruc- 
tion in  the  temple  by  hearing  and  asking  questions — the 
one  is  almost  useless  without  the  other.  We  should  ask 
questions  of  our  books  and  of  ourselves ',  what  is  its 
purpose — by  what  means  it  proceeds  to  effect  that  purpose 
— whether  we  fully  understand  the  one — whether  we  go 
along  with  the  other — do  the  arguments  satisfy  us — do  the 
descriptions  convey  lively  and  distinct  images  to  us^do  we 
understand  all  the  allusions  to  persons  or  things  ?  In 
short,  does  our  mind  act  over  again  from  the  writer's 
guidance  what  his  acted  before?  do  we  reason  as  he 
reasoned,  conceive  as  he  conceived,  think  and  feel  as  he 
thought  and  felt  ?  or  if  not,  can  we  discern  where  and  how 
far  we  do  not,  and  can  we  tell  why  we  do  not  ? ' 

Questioning  has  also  a  place  in  rhetoric  as  well  as  in 
research.  Frankly  conducted,  it  is  a  mode  of  conviction 
without  offence.  To  whatever  an  opponent  urges,  with 
which  we  do  not  agree,  of  course  we  have  some  objection. 
Put  this  objection  incidentally,  or  ask  as  a  question,  what 
answer  can  be  given  to  it  ?  This  is  a  good  conversational 
mode  of  debate,  where  the  improvement  of  an  opponent, 
rather  than  a  triumph  over  him,  is  the  object.  It  is  not 
showy,  but  it  is  informing. 

In  a  similar  way  confidence  may  be  acquired  by  diffident 
speakers.     A   novitiate   conversationalist   is   shy  of  taking 


74  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

part  in  debating  a  topic,  lest  he  should  not  be  able  to 
sustain  himself.  To  such  I  have  said— put  your  argument 
in  the  form  of  an  objection  which  some  would  urge,  and 
beg  some  one  of  the  company  to  tell  you  what  he  would 
say  in  reply.  If  to  this  answer  you  have  an  objection 
further,  put  that  also  in  the  questioning  form;  for  a  man 
would  be  able  to  ask  a  question  who  would  never  be  able  to 
make  a  speech.  Wise  members  of  Parliament  know  this. 
Once  in  conversation,  the  diffident  will  speak  freely  enough 
— perhaps  too  freely.  A  coward  will  fight  when  he  grows 
warm  in  strife.  By  questioning  a  novice  may  learn  the  best 
answers  others  can  give  to  his  own  argument,  and  without 
exposure  learn  his  own  weakness  or  strength,  or  that  of 
others. 

In  interpreting  the  words  of  an  adversary,  he  who  replies 
has  to  put  some  construction  upon  it.  It  is  safest  to  put 
the  best.  He  is  nearly  always  wrong  who  puts  the  worst, 
whether  in  debate  or  in  daily  life.  To  put  the  best  con- 
struction possible  on  a  proposition  in  dispute  is  to  raise 
debate  to  a  higher  level  and  maintain  it  there. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

DEFENCE  OF   DEBATE 

Speaking  a  few  years  ago  at  a  Liverpool  college,  Mr 
Gladstone,  who  is  always  for  fairness  to  adversaries, 
said :  '  The  day  had  gone  by  when  reticence  or  railing  at 
opponents  was  regarded  as  a  sufficient  defence  of  opinion. 
Assailants  of  religious  tenets  must  be  met  by  reason  and  not 
by  railing.'  In  words  to  this  effect  he  counselled  that 
adversaries  should  be  met  by  argument.  Mr  Gladstone  is 
as  much  an  ecclesiastical  as  a  political  authority,  and  no  one 
else  of  his  eminence  as  a  Christian  has,  in  my  time,  justified 
reasoning  controversy.  It  is  only  those  who,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  lack  confidence  in  the  truth  of  their  opinions, 
who  decry  honest  discussion.  To  him  who  believes  he  has 
the  truth,  opposition  is  his  opportunity.  He  who  under- 
stands that  the  sincere  adversary  is  the  friend  of  truth  will 
find  debate  a  great  advantage.  Your  opponent  may  be  the 
enemy  of  your  opinions,  but  he  is  the  friend  of  your  improve- 
ment. The  more  ably  he  confronts  you  the  more  he  serves 
you.  The  gods,  it  is  said,  have  not  given  to  mortals  the 
privilege  of  seeing  themselves  as  others  see  them ;  but,  by  a 
happy  compensation  in  human  affairs,  it  is  given  to  adver- 
saries to  supply  what  the  gods  deny.  They  afford  that 
indispensable  light  of  contrast  which  enables  you  to  discover 
the  truth  if  hidden  from  you,  or  the  opportunity  to  display 
the  truth  if  you  possess  it.  '  A  good  writer,'  says  Godwin, 
'  must  have  ductility  of  thought  that  shall  enable  him  to  put 

75 


76  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

himself  in  the  place  of  his  reader,  and  not  suffer  him  to  take 
it  for  granted,  because  he  understands  himself,  that  every 
one  who  comes  to  him  for  information  will  understand  him. 
He  must  view  his  phrases  on  all  sides,  and  be  aware  of  all 
the  senses  of  which  they  are  susceptible.'  But  this  faciHty 
can  nowhere  be  so  certainly  acquired  as  in  debate. 

A  master  of  debate  amid  orators  of  renown — Edmund 
Burke,  said :  '  He  that  wrestles  with  us  strengthens  our 
nerves  and  sharpens  our  skill.  Our  antagonist  is  our  helper. 
This  amiable  conflict  with  difficulty  obliges  us  to  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  our  object,  and  compels  us  to  consider  it 
in  all  its  relations.     It  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  superficial.' 

Discussion  commences  without  prepossession,  and  ends 
without  dogmatism  when  each  disputant  is  anxious  to  explain 
as  well  as  to  defend  his  opinions.  As  an  established  truth 
is  that  which  is  generally  received  after  it  has  been  generally 
examined,  it  is  evident  that,  though  truth  may  be  discovered 
by  research,  it  can  only  be  established  by  debate. 

The  only  verification  of  truth  possible,  is  when  proposi- 
tions supposed  to  be  true  are  subjected  to  criticism.  The 
most  competent  writers  (as  Samuel  Bailey,  to  wit)  on  the 
means  of  ascertaining  Truth,  agree  that,  while  true  things 
are  true  in  themselves,  and  may  come  to  be  accepted  with- 
out controversy,  no  one  can  be  sure  of  the  truth  of  very 
important  propositions  until  they  have  been  openly,  freely, 
and  universally  discussed  in  a  fair  field  of  inquiry.  All 
Milton  asked  was  '  a  free  and  open  encounter '  for  truth,  and 
no  one  could  doubt  its  victoriousness.  Like  all  intrepid 
advocates  of  a  cause  in  a  minority,  Milton  was  too  sanguine. 
A  '  free  and  open '  encounter  is  not  enough — it  should  be  a 
fair  encounter  also.  If  disputants  are  unequally  matched 
as  to  powers  of  expression,  extent  of  knowledge  or  means  of 
obtaining  it,  or  leisure  for  preparation  for  the  encounter — 
truth  for  that  time  may  not  obtain  the  advantage.  People 
seem  not  to  think  that  debaters  should  be  as  equally 
matched  as  may  be.     A  savage  undrilled  against  a  soldier 


DEFENCE   OF   DEBATE  ^^ 

trained — a  racer  lame  against  one  swift  of  foot — a  village 
spouter  against  a  London  actor — a  pedagogue  against  a 
professor — would  be  no  fair  encounter  however  'free  and 
open '  it  might  be. 

That  is  no  fight — as  everybody  knows — 
Where  only  one  side  deals  the  blows, 
And  the  other  has  to  bear  them. 

It  is  because  common-sense  conditions  of  fairness  are 
overlooked  in  discussion  that  many  decry  debate  as  un- 
instructive  or  disappointing.  The  sureness  of  a  truth  is 
known  only  when  it  obtains  acceptance  after  every  competent 
person  has  been  heard,  who  has  anything  to  say  against  it. 
Freedom  of  thought,  and  the  free  and  equal  criticism  of  it,  is 
a  condition  of  truth  and  progress.  It  is  the  well-understood 
interest  of  every  community  to  permit,  to  encourage,  and  to 
give  every  man  who  can  think,  a  chance  of  adding  to  the 
sum  of  Truth.  At  the  same  time,  no  person  can  hope  to 
obtain  from  men  of  thought  that  indispensable  criticism 
which  they  can  give,  unless  the  advocate  of  truth  is  himself 
studiously  fair  and  friendly  in  speech. 

Every  man,  said  Walpole,  and  later,  Pitt,  has  his  price. 
Whether  either  had  sounded  the  venality  of  patriotism  and 
fixed  the  market  price  of  his  own  virtue  I  know  not.  If  Pitt 
was  incorruptible,  as  is  believed,  he  should  not  have  said 
what  he  did.  But  with  more  truth  and  less  offensiveness  it 
may  be  said  that  every  man  has  his  reason,  which,  when 
once  presented  to  him,  will  sway  him ;  and  to  find  this  out 
is  the  problem  rhetoric  has  to  solve.  I  am  not  more 
favourable  than  Hood  to  the  plan  of  '  dropping  truth  gently, 
as  if  it  were  china,  and  likely  to  break.'  But  if  a  fair  case 
be  so  stated  as  not  to  mortify  others  by  arrogance,  nor 
annoy  by  ceaseless  importunity,  nor  disgust  by  seeming 
vanity,  but  accompanied  by  evident  indications  of  dis- 
interested sincerity,  it  will  generally  prove  acceptable.  It  is 
not  the  truth  men  hate,  but  the   disagreeable   auxiliaries 


78  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

which  SO  often  attend  its  enunciation.  Bacon,  I  think  it  is, 
who  says  in  his  regal  manner :  *  Whosoever  has  his  mind 
fraught  with  many  thoughts,  his  wits  and  understanding 
do  clarify  and  break  up,  in  the  communicating  and  dis- 
coursing with  another ;  he  tosseth  his  thoughts  more  easily  ; 
he  marshalleth  them  more  orderly ;  he  seeth  how  they  look 
when  they  are  turned  into  words ;  finally,  he  waxeth  wiser 
than  himself;  and  that  more  by  an  hour's  discourse  than 
by  a  day's  meditation.' 

Very  few  people  are  capable  of  charity  without  compromise, 
or  can  distinguish  between  them.  Charity  recognises  how 
a  man  may  come  by  his  error  without  being  conscious  of  it. 
Compromise  is  suffering  some  error  to  remain,  out  of 
courtesy  or  expediency,  in  order  to  obtain  co-operation  in 
carrying  into  practice  a  portion  of  truth  which  would  other- 
wise be  rejected. 

It  is  of  use  trying  to  find  a  common  ground  for 
debate.  He  who  cannot  find  it,  cannot  convert.  How 
can  persons,  any  more  than  bodies,  cohere,  who  never 
touch  ?  So  long  as  each  denies  to  the  other  a  share  of  reason 
on  his  side — so  long  as  each  maintains  an  infallibility  of 
pretension  to  complete  truth — they  both  assume  what  is 
contrary  to  the  nature  of  things,  and  exclude  the  common 
ground  which  must  be  established  between  them,  where 
truth  and  error  can  join  issue.  There  are  few  impassable 
gulfs  between  contending  men  or  contending  opinions  but 
such  as  are  dug  by  pride  and  passion.  All  have  a  common 
consciousness  of  impression — a  common  nature  to  investi- 
gate— a  common  sincerity  to  actutate  us — truth  is  our 
common  object,  and  we  have  a  common  interest  in  dis- 
covering it.  Nature  made  us  friends :  it  is  mostly  false 
pride  or  false  impressions  that  make  us  enemies.  Thus 
common  ground  exists  between  most  disputants.  The 
common  ground  which  exists  is  not  one  which  policy  makes, 
but  one  that  nature  provides. 

These  remarks  regard  conviction  as  depending  upon  truth 


DEFENCE   OF   DEBATE  79 

not  upon  forms  of  procedure.  Nothing  is  recommended 
here  which  is  inconsistent  with  truth — no  cunning  question- 
ing, no  sophistical  entrapment.  The  sole  precepts  are  those 
of  condescension  and  contrast.  From  a  common  ground 
of  agreement,  you  have  a  common  point  of  sight,  from 
which  all  objects  are  seen  in  the  same  light ;  and  a  clear 
plane  is  obtained  on  which  principles  can  be  drawn,  and  a 
perfect  outline  of  truth  and  error  displayed.  He  who  has 
the  truth  will  make  it  plain  "by  relevant  elucidation. 
Differences  are  often  made  wider  by  irrelevant,  repulsive 
debate.  Differences  which  did  not  exist  are  often  created 
in  this  way.  All  honest  men  desire  the  truth,  and  there  is 
a  way  in  which  they  can  find  it.  The  understandings  of 
men  commonly  run  in  a  given  channel — each  thinker  looks 
as  it  were  through  a  telescope  of  his  own.  It  is  only  in 
debate  that  he  sees  it  through  the  telescope  of  his  opponent, 
which  clarifies  his  own  views.  Let  no  man  conclude  be- 
cause no  immediate  change  of  opinion  is  manifest  in 
debate,  that  none  has  taken  place.  The  life  of  thought 
may  be  begun.  Seed  brought  from  Egypt  was  found 
to  grow  more  than  eighteen  centuries  after  it  was 
garnered. 

The  supreme  advantage  of  debate  is  that  it  compels  a 
man  to  think.  A  man  is  not  a  man  unless  he  is  a  thinker — 
he  is  a  fool  having  no  ideas  of  his  own.  If  he  happens  to 
live  among  men  who  do  think,  he  browses,  like  an  animal, 
on  their  ideas.  He  is  a  sort  of  kept-man,  being  supported 
by  the  thoughts  of  others.  He  is  what  in  England  we  call 
a  pauper,  who  subsists  upon  out-door  relief  allowed  him  by 
men  of  intellect.  Nevertheless,  there  are  persons  in  every 
assembly  who,  like  Curran,  have  powers  and  know  it  not ; 
or,  like  Macklin,  who  was  more  than  forty  years  old  before 

he  knew  that 

He  was  the  Jew 

Whom  Shakespeare  drew. 

Thousands    have    powers   unsuspected    by   themselves   or 


8o  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

Others.     Some  may  be  compared  to  that  daughter  of  the 
first  Duke  of  Marlbrough— 

All  nature's  charms  in  Sunderland  appear, 
Bright  as  her  eyes,  and  as  her  reason  clear ; 
Yet  still  their  force,  to  men  not  safely  known. 
Seems  undiscovered  to  herself  alone. 

The  defence  of  debate — like  that  of  national  education — 
is  that  it  discovers  and  trains  latent  talent  for  the  service 
and  exaltation  of  the  nation. 

Oral  examination  surpasses  all  other  forms.  Discussion 
after  many  discourses  would  be  of  great  public  value.  The 
argument  against  debate,  that  it  would  lead  to  strife  and  dis- 
cord, is  one  reason  why  it  should  be  practised.  Men  are 
childish  intellectually,  while  in  that  state  in  which  debate 
must  be  prohibited.  If  they  be  children,  train  them  in 
the  art  of  debate  until  they  are  translated  into  men.  To 
admit  debate  after  an  address,  it  is  said,  enables  factious 
individuals  to  destroy  the  effect  of  what  has  been  said.  It 
is  often  the  fault  of  the  speaker  if  anyone  is  able  to  efface 
the  effect  of  his  speech. 

As  a  general  rule,  discussions,  set  and  accidental,  are  good. 
A  twofold  reality  by  means  of  debate  is  brought  to  bear  on  the 
public  understanding,  more  exciting  than  that  of  any  other 
intellectual  agency.  An  opinion  that  is  worth  holding  is 
worth  diffusing,  and  to  be  diffused  it  must  be  thought  about  ; 
and  when  men  think  on  true  principles  they  become 
adherents — but  only  those  adherents  are  worth  having 
who  have  thought  over  both  sides,  and  discussion  alone 
makes  them  do  that.  True,  men  may  read  on  both  sides ; 
but  it  seldom  happens  that  men  who  are  impressed  by  one 
side  care  to  read  the  other.  In  discussions  they  are  obliged 
to  hear  the  other  side.  If  men  do  read  both  sides,  unless 
they  read  a  '  discussion,'  they  do  not  find  all  the  facts  on 
one  side  specially  considered  on  the  other.  In  a  discussion 
read,  unless  read  at  one  sitting,  the  strength  of  any  impres- 


DEFENCE  OF  DEBATE  8 I 

sion  and  the  clearness  of  the  argument  on  one  side  is  partly 
lost  before  the  opponent's  side  is  perused.  But  in  an  oral 
debate,  the  relation  of  fact  to  fact  is  more  complete — 
the  pro  and  con  are  heard  successively,  the  light  of  contrast 
is  full  and  clear,  and  both  sides  are  weighed  at  the  same 
time,  when  the  eye  of  the  mind  is  sharply  fixed  on  the 
balance.  If  the  disputants  are  intellectual  gladiators  so 
much  the  better,  provided  they  are  in  earnest.  The 
stronger  they  are,  the  mightier  and  the  more  instructive 
the  conflict.  It  is  said  that  people  come  out  of  such  dis- 
cussions as  they  go  into  them,  that  the  same  partisans 
shout  or  hiss  on  the  same  side  all  through.  This  is  not 
always  true,  and  no  matter  if  it  is.  The  work  of  conviction 
is  often  done  though  the  audience  may  not  show  it.  They 
may  break  your  head,  and  afterwards  own  you  were  right. 
Human  pride  forbids  the  confession,  but  change  is  effected 
in  spite  of  pride.  But  if  an  audience  remain  the  same 
at  night,  they  will  not  be  the  same  the  next  morning. 
Conviction  is  begun  in  discussion  which  is  not  ended 
there.  He  who  hastily  changes  his  views  is  to  be  suspected 
of  weakness,  or  carelessness,  or  caprice.  The  steady,  in- 
quiring and  deliberate  thinker  is  the  safest  convert. 

It  is  a  maxim  of  the  schoolmen  that  we  never  really  know 
what  a  thing  is,  unless  we  are  also  able  to  give  a  sufficient 
account  of  its  opposite.  This  is  the  maxim  of  contrast  that 
enters  into  all  effective  persuasion.  Professor  Bain,  in  his 
'  Essay  on  Early  Philosophy,'  remarks : — 

The  essence  of  the  Dialectic  Method  is  to  place  side 
by  side  with  every  doctrine  and  its  reasons,  all  opposing 
doctrines  and  their  reasons,  allowing  these  to  be  stated  in 
full  by  the  persons  holding  them.  No  doctrine  is  to  be 
held  as  expounded,  far  less  proved,  unless  it  stands  in 
parallel  array  to  every  other  counter-theory,  with  all  that 
can  be  said  for  each.  For  a  short  time  this  system  was 
actually  maintained  and  practised ;  but  the  execution  of 
Socrates  gave  it  its  first  check,  and  the  natural  intolerance 

F 


82  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

of  mankind  rendered  its  continuance  impossible.  Since  the 
Reformation,  struggles  have  been  made  to  regain  for  the 
discussion  of  questions  generally — philosophical,  political, 
moral  and  religious,  the  two-sided  procedure  of  the  law- 
courts,  and  'perhaps  never  more  strenuously  than  now.' 
Remember  that — 

Through  mutual  intercourse  and  mutual  aid, 

Great  deeds  are  done,  and  great  discoveries  made ; 

The  wise  new  wisdom  on  the  wise  bestow, 

Whilst  the  lone  thinker's  thoughts  come  slight  and  slow. 

Persons  whom  you  take  to  be  wise  and  choose  to  think 
honest,  will  arrest  discussion  and  conceal  their  own  ignor- 
ance by  insisting  that  the  point  in  dispute  is  a  mere  affair 
of  terms.  'What's  in  a  name?'  they  say.  Everything. 
Truth  is  in  the  right  name.  The  wrong  name  misleads. 
Difference  in  terms  means  difference  of  ideas.  To  one  who 
says  he  means  the  same  as  you,  only  under  a  different  name, 
ask  him  to  take  your  name  and  thus  indicate  the  unity  of 
his  idea.  He  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  you  will  soon 
see  there  is  a  difference  in  his  mind.  But  for  debate  he 
would  go  on  believing  there  was  none. 

It  is  no  mean  excellence  in  debate  that  it  alone  relieves  a 
man  of  honourable  conscience  of  responsibility.  How  can 
anyone  bear  the  idea  of  putting  forth  opinions  for  which 
others,  who  adopt  them,  must  in  this  life  or  the  next  be 
answerable — and  he  accords  them  no  opportunity  of  the 
self-defence  of  debate  ?  He  who  is  not  infallible  must  often 
be  in  error,  even  where  he  is  most  earnest,  and  he  is  answer- 
able for  whatever  he  says  or  does  which  influences  the  life 
of  others.  Discussion  alone  can  save  him  from  the  con- 
sequences of  his  advocacy,  so  far  as  it  may  be  erroneous. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

THE  THEORY  OF  EPITHETS — MORAL  AS  WELL  AS  RHETORICAL 

The  question  of  epithets  cover  so  wide  a  range  of  morals, 
manner  of  mind  as  well  as  policy  of  speech,  that  several 
considerations  are  necessary  to  adequately  understanding  it. 
At  every  step  an  observing  student  is  admonished  how  con- 
scientiously a  man  will  say  things  he  will  one  day  wish  he 
could  recall.     Carlton  tells  truly — 

Boys  flying  kites  haul  in  their  white-winged  birds ; 
You  can't  do  that  way  when  you're  flying  words. 
Careful  with  fire  is  good  advice  we  know  ; 
Careful  with  words  is  ten  times  doubly  so, 
Thoughts  unexpress'd  may  sometimes  fall  back  dead, 
But  God  Himself  can't  kill  them  once  they're  said. 

Many  enter  the  quagmire  of  recrimination  without  ade- 
quate reflection.  The  question  is  commonly  put,  '  Ought 
we  not  to  state  all  we  know  to  be  true  ? '  Not  unless  it 
can  be  shown  to  be  useful.  Every  man  knows  a  thousand 
things  which  are  true,  but  which  it  would  advantage 
nobody  to  hear.  When  we  speak,  the  rule  is  absolute 
that  we  speak  the  truth,  but  what  truth  we  will  voluntarily 
communicate  good  sense  must  be  the  judge.  If  all  truth 
must  be  published,  without  regard  to  fitness  or  justice, 
William  Rufus,  who  drew  a  tooth  a  day  from  a  rich  Jew's 
head,  to  induce  him.  to  tell  truly  where  his  treasures  were 
concealed,  was  a  great  moral  philosopher.  '  Well,  but 
what  a  man  believes  to  be  true  and  useful  may  he  not 

83 


84  PUBLIC  SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

State  ? '  will  be  asked  by  some.  Not  unless  he  can  prove 
it.  If  every  man  stated  his  suspicions,  no  character  would 
be  safe  from  aspersion,  all  society  would  be  a  school 
of  scandal.  Suspicion  is  the  food  of  slander.  There  is 
already  more  evil  in  existence  than  the  virtuous  are  likely 
soon  to  correct,  and  little  necessity  exists  for  suspicion  to 
supply  hypothetical  cases.  'But,'  observes  the  reader,  'if 
two  disputants  have  respectively  proved  the  fitness  of  the 
epithets  they  have  mutually  appUed,  are  they  not  justified 
in  having  used  them  ? '  Better  leave  that  to  the  audience, 
unless,  as  has  been  said,  the  object  is  to  end  the  discussion, 
for  the  auditors  assured  they  have  two  rascals  before 
them,  will  leave  the  room.  No  disputant  should  unite  the 
offices  of  witness,  jury  and  judge,  giving  his  own  evidence, 
returning  his  own  verdict,  and  pronouncing  the  sentence 
in  his  own  favour.  It  is  this  habit  which  has  been  the 
discredit  of  religious,  political  and  literary  discussions. 
Lawyers  are  the  philosophers  of  disputes,  and  have  wisely 
taken  out  of  the  hands  of  interest,  petulance  and  prejudice, 
the  power  of  deciding  upon  their  own  case.  Yet  disputants 
will  do  that  unhesitatingly  with  regard  to  each  other,  which, 
in  a  court  of  justice,  would  long  tax  the  patience  and  dis- 
cernment of  twelve  disinterested,  dispassionate  men.  The 
difficulty  of  being  right  as  to  epithets  shows  the  necessity  of 
being  sparing  in  their  use.  Epithets  are  more  safely  applied 
to  the  characterisation  of  opinions  than  of  persons.  If  you 
accuse  certain  stones  of  a  certain  property  which  is  not 
possessed  by  all,  the  exceptional  stones  will  not  be  scandal- 
ised, as  the  same  number  of  men  would  whom  you  happened 
to  include  in  a  carelessly-worded,  disparaging,  general  asser- 
tion. The  wrongly  accused  are  not  pacified  by  your  saying, 
'  Oh,  I  did  not  mean  you  \  I  meant  to  allow  that  there  were 
exceptions.'     Never  forget  that  '  all '  means  everyone. 

It  is  a  wise  maxim  in  law — in  rhetoric  as  well — that  ten 
guilty  men  had  better  escape  than  that  one  innocent  man 
should   suffer.      So   with    personal   judgments.      The   one 


THE  THEORY   OF   EPITHETS  85 

innocent  man  condemned  will  do   both  judge  and  justice 
more  harm  than  the  ten  guilty  who  escape. 

Persons  who  deem  duels  with  daggers  or  pistols  absurd 
and  murderous,  will  fight  duels  with  their  tongues  or  pens, 
though  tragedies  of  domestic  alienation,  or  public  hatred  and 
wreck  of  parties  frequently  follow  therefrom.  Since  the 
perfect  style  of  public  invective  can  no  longer  be  employed, 
why  should  the  habit  still  linger  ?  After  Grattan  had 
denounced  Corrie  as  a  liar,  all  progress  in  discussion  was 
arrested  until  the  two  orators  had  attempted  to  murder 
each  other. 

Professor  A.  de  Morgan,  in  his  reply  to  Sir  W.  Hamilton, 
in  their  discussion  on  the  origination  of  Formal  Logic, 
makes  these  useful  remarks  : — 

'In  the  days  of  swords  it  was  one  of  the  objects  of 
public  policy  to  prevent  people  from  sticking  them  into  each 
other's  bodies  on  trivial  grounds.  We  now  wear  pens  ;  and 
it  is  as  great  a  point  to  hinder  ourselves  from  sticking  them 
into  each  other's  characters,  without  serious  and  well-con- 
sidered reasons.  To  this  end  I  have  always  considered  it 
as  one  of  the  first  and  most  special  rules,  that  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  a  charge  is  no  sufficient  reason  for  its  promulga- 
tion. I  assert  that  no  one  is  justified  in  accusing  another 
until  he  has  his  proof  ready  ;  and  that  in  the  interval,  if 
indeed  it  be  right  that  there  should  be  any  interval  between 
the  charge  and  the  attempt  at  substantiation,  all  the  leisure 
and  energies  of  the  accuser  are  the  property  of  the  accused.' 

Improvement  and  not  mortification  of  person  or  detraction 
of  character  should  govern  the  employment  of  epithets  as  well 
as  arguments.  Disagreements  are  human  and  inevitable. 
Differences  are  in  themselves  as  natural  and  as  innocent  as 
variation  in  form,  colour  or  strength.  It  is  the  manner  in 
which  those  who  differ  seek  to  adjust  their  differences  that 
constitutes  any  disgrace  there  may  be  in  any  divergence  of 
opinion  or  belief.  Philosophy  has  been  preached  to  us  in 
vain,  if  we  ever  take  up  arms  against  an  opponent  without  at 


86  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  same  time  keeping  justice  to  him  in  view,  as  well  as  our 
own  defence.  To  promote  the  welfare  of  those  who  pro- 
bably hate  us,  is  generous  but  difficult.  Addison  called  his 
opponents  'miscreants,'  Dr  Clarke  'crazy,'  Paley  'insane,' 
which  did  not  produce  amity  or  instruction.  The  profit  of 
controversy  lies  in  contrast  of  argument  ever  fresh  and 
instructive.  Recrimination,  if  common  to  both  disputants, 
has,  like  the  common  quantities  in  an  equation,  to  be  struck 
out  of  the  dispute  as  only  making  delay  in  finding  the 
true  result.  Epithets  are  better  confined  to  error.  Even 
in  Parliament  the  Speaker  seems  to  possess  no  diction- 
ary of  personal  epithets.  Members  are  not  always  checked 
when  they  use  inadmissible  terms,  and  when  attention  has 
been  called  to  them  the  Speaker,  for  the  time  being,  has  not 
always  been  ready  with  a  definition  of  the  disputed  word, 
and  has  sometimes  been  wrong  when  he  has  given  it. 
Leaders  of  the  House  have  sometimes  been  unready  in 
supplying  a  decisive  meaning,  which  shows  that  there  is  no 
Parliamentary  Code  of  epithets  in  existence,  and  neither 
Sir  Erskine  May  nor  Mr  Palgrave,  who  have  written  on 
Parliamentary  procedure  and  practice,  appear  to  have  com- 
piled any  such  work.  Mr  Gladstone,  who  appears  to  know 
the  meaning  of  every  word,  and  never  errs  in  terms  of 
imputation,  might  compile  such  a  code  at  will.  Indeed, 
one  might  be  made  from  episodes  in  his  speeches.  Take 
two  instances.  Sir  Stafford  Northcote  one  day  complained 
of  what  Mr  Gladstone  had  just  said.  '  Of  what  do  you 
complain?'  Mr  Gladstone  asked.  'Of  misrepresentation,' 
answered  Sir  Stafford.  'The  right  honourable  gentleman 
does  not  mend  the  matter  by  that  rather  rude  expression.' 
Misrepresentation  implies  an  intentional  perversion  of 
another's  meaning.  Speaking  in  reply  to  Lord  R.  Churchill, 
Mr  Gladstone  remarked — '  My  reference  was  this.  The 
noble  lord  distinctly  accused  me  and  accused  the  Liberal 
party  of  traducing  an  adversary.  It  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive  a   charge   more   disgraceful.     It  is   a  charge   which 


THE  THEORY  OF   EPITHETS  87 

implies  falsehood  in  the  first  place.  There  is  no  traducing 
by  error.  Traducing  is  a  wilful  act,  and  that  wilful  act  is 
imputed  to  me  by  the  noble  lord.' 

A  few  examples  of  the  meaning  of  terms  disparaging  or 
dishonouring  may  show  the  student  the  sort  of  attention 
which  epithets  meant  to  wound  (the  kind  here  considered) 
require. 

Liar  means  that  a  person  says  what  is  not  true  and  knows 
it  to  be  untrue,  and  that  he   consciously  and  deliberately 
says  what  he  does  say  with  a  view  to  deceive.     'Liar'  is 
a  favourite  epithet  with  the  lowest  class  of  opponents.     It 
puts  a  man  who  uses  it  out  of  any  court,  save  a  court  of  law. 
No  court  of  honour  would  adjudicate  upon  it.     It  should  be 
referred  to  a  court  of  scavengers,  whose  business  it  would 
be  to  remove  it.     The  term  is  not  a  matter  of  taste ;  it  is  a 
breach  of  the  peace,  and  would  be  resented  by  a  blow,  or  a 
duel,  or  contempt,  which  would  keep  him  inexorably  at  a  dis- 
tance who  used  it.     If  a  man  thought  his  adversary  was  not 
to  be  believed  on  his  word  he  might  say  so.     But  then  he 
puts  an  end  to  the  controversy,  which  it  is  useless  to  con- 
tinue when  one  disputant  does  not  believe  what  the  other 
says.     It  is  like  cheating  at  cards.     The  playing  is  over  as 
soon  as  the  charge  of  cheating  is  made.     One  who  wrote 
with  authority  said,  if  one  says  to  another  '  You  lied  there,' 
and  we  regard  only  the  principal  signification  of  that  expres- 
sion, it  is  the  same  thing  as  if  he  had  said  to  him,  '  You 
know   the  contrary  of  what   you   say.'      But   besides  this 
principal  signification,  these  words  convey  an  idea  of  con- 
tempt and  outrage ;  and  they  inspire  the  belief  that  he  who 
uttered  them  would   not   hesitate   to  do   us   harm,  which 
renders  them  offensive  and  injurious. 

The  minor  terms  of  turpitude  are  many,  which  contain 
dishonouring  imputations.  Of  such  is  the  term  '  traduce.' 
To  say  another  traduces  you,  implies  that  he  vilifies  and 
defames  you,  not  only  falsely  but  knowingly.  I  have  seen 
a  memorial  addressed  to  Lord  Palmerston,  in  which  he  was 


88  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

accused  of  'duplicity.'  The  term  killed  the  memorial. 
What  Minister  could  look  at  a  request  from  persons  who 
affixed  to  him  the  stigma  of  double  dealing  ?  To  charge  an 
opponent  with  '  quibbling '  is  to  say  he  knows  the  truth  is 
against  him,  and  that  he  seeks  to  evade  it.  To  accuse  an 
adversary  of '  garbling '  is  equally  offensive.  It  means  that  he 
knowingly  quotes  what  gives  a  false  impression.  It  is  lawful 
to  warn  an  opponent  that  what  he  imputes  to  you,  you  regard 
as  insulting ;  but  to  charge  him  with  insulting  you  is  to  charge 
him  with  an  intentional  outrage  upon  you,  and  if  he  be  a 
person  of  self-respect  he  will  not  hold  further  intercourse  with 
one  while  he  persists  in  the  charge.  A  '  falsehood '  is  not 
only  something  untrue,  but  known  to  be  untrue  by  the  teller. 
If  it  is  not  intended  to  imply  this,  the  statement  must  be  de- 
scribed as  untrue,  erroneous,  or  founded  on  misinformation. 

Any  man  of  reflection  can  tell  by  one  test  whether  a  term 
is  fit  to  be  applied  to  another  by  asking  himself  v/hether 
he  would  submit  to  have  it  applied  to  himself.  No  term 
that  imphes  consciousness  of  moral  wrong  can  be  used 
towards  another  without  offence.  But  there  are  a  class 
of  words  which  relate  to  errors  of  the  mind  which  touch 
a  man's  capacity,  and  not  his  honour,  which  may  be  used. 
A  sensible  man  is  instructed  by  the  most  penetrating  criti- 
cism or  characterisations  of  his  inconsistencies  or  narrow- 
ness of  knowledge.  To  say  a  man  is  economical  in  the 
use  of  truth  refers  to  the  smallness  of  his  hoard  of  it,  and 
not  to  a  fraudulent  reservation  of  it.  It  may  be  allowable 
to  refer  to  malformation  in  the  mind  in  which  the  backbone 
of  fact  is  evidently  crooked.  I  have  said  to  an  adversary 
whom  I  did  not  intend  to  accuse  of  wilful  misrepresenta- 
tion, that  he  had  a  '  refracting  mind.'  The  straightest  stick 
put  into  a  pail  of  water  appears  bent,  and  the  straightest 
fact  put  before  some  minds  will  appear  distorted ;  the 
trouble  being  with  the  medium  and  not  with  the  intent. 

Take  a  familiar  instance  of  the  difficulties  of  explicit 
expression.     'I  said  the  gentleman  lied,  it  is  true.     I  am 


THE  THEORY   OF   EPITHETS  89 

sorry  for  it.'  What  is  true?  Did  the  gentleman  lie?  I 
said  I  was  sorry  for  it.  Does  it  mean  he  did  not  lie,  and 
that  I  was  sorry  I  said  he  did,  or  that  it  is  true  he  did  lie, 
and  that  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  admit  it  ?  This  is  a  case 
which  shows  how  difficult  it  is  sometimes  to  say  straight  off 
what  is  intended. 

If  men  understood  half  the  trouble  there  is  in  making  out 
what  the  truth  really  is,  and  half  the  trouble  there  is  in 
making  it  plain  to  others,  so  that  they  cannot  possibly 
misunderstand  it,  there  would  not  be  half  the  anger  or  half 
the  wonder  there  now  is,  when  one  person  differs  from 
another  in  opinion — and  more  hesitancy  in  applying  dis- 
paraging epithets  upon  first  impressions. 

There  is  a  point  of  extreme  interest  attaching  to  this 
question  which  it  may  be  useful  to  mention,  but  irrelevant 
to  discuss.  What  is  to  be  done  with  persons  who  make 
dishonouring  imputations?  Should  they  be  noticed?  If 
persons  '  of  no  importance ' — as  Oscar  Wilde  would  say — 
should  be  raised  from  their  noisome  obscurity  by  reference 
to  them  as  though  they  were  authorities  on  manners  and 
their  opinion  had  weight,  imputation  would  be  good  policy 
for  the  obscure.  Should  a  man  like  Thackeray,  having 
cause  of  offence  against  Edmund  Yates,  withdraw  from  his 
club  unless  Mr  Yates  was  expelled  ?  When  a  person  who 
has  a  character  to  lose,  uses  aspersive  words  towards 
another,  it  seems  sufficient  to  show  they  were  unfounded, 
when  their  untruth  must  be  admitted,  and  it  is  the  asperser 
who  is  damaged  and  not  the  aspersed.  The  asperser  is 
regarded  as  belonging  to  a  class  who  have  no  sense  of 
honour  in  the  use  of  terms. 

When  a  young  man,  I  was  appointed  secretary  to  the 
Garibaldi  Committee.  Hearing  one  day  an  inquiry  as  to 
the  accounts,  I  made  them  up  and  sent  a  cheque  for  the 
balance  to  the  treasurer;  whereupon  a  member  of  the 
committee,  then  in  Parliament  and  afterwards  in  the 
Cabinet,  came  down  and  expressed  vehement  indignation, 


90  PUBLIC    SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

saying  gentlemen  were  not  as  other  people  who  go  by 
suspicion,  but  act  on  facts,  and  what  I  had  done  was  an 
imputation  upon  them  —  adding,  in  a  cordial  tone, 
*  Remember,  if  I  had  not  had  great  respect  for  you  I  would 
not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  express  this  resentment.' 
The  storm  broke  in  a  compliment.  But  I  never  forgot 
the  lesson  that  with  a  sensible  man  personal  dissent  from 
you,  and  the  rectification  of  your  error,  depends  upon  the 
respect  in  which  an  adversary  holds  the  person  to  be  put 
right.  In  a  society  a  good  deal  turns  upon  how  far  a  man 
should  tolerate  the  comradeship  of  those  who  have  made 
aspersive  charges.  Excellent  and  most  useful  members 
of  a  party  will  resign  and  leave  it  very  much  the  poorer 
by  their  loss,  because  of  some  offensive  thing  said  of  them. 
We  see  this  done  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  some- 
times those  driven  from  their  party  seek  to  destroy  it  in 
resentment.  Why  is  it  that  some  dishonouring  epithet 
used  by  some  coarse-minded,  ill-tempered,  inconsiderate 
member  of  a  party  should  have  conceded  to  it  the  power 
of  driving  its  best  members  out  of  it,  and  even  of  breaking 
it  up?  This  is  not  the  place  to  pursue  the  subject,  but 
so  much  as  is  said  may  serve  to  show  the  danger  that  lurks 
in  evil  epithets  and  phrases. 

It  is  worth  while  asking — Cannot  honour  protect  itself; 
cannot  it  stand  upon  its  own  well-earned  repute  without  the 
hot  explosion  which  a  vicious  epithet  often  calls  forth  ? 
Lord  Coleridge  had  the  most  silvery  tongue  on  the  Bench, 
but  if  assailed  he  could  defend  himself  with  words  which 
had  vitriol  in  them  and  burnt  where  they  fell ;  yet  he  did 
not  intend  that  the  object  of  his  resentment  should  believe 
all  he  said.  How  often  are  noble  friendships  cancelled, 
acts  of  kindness  and  generosity  obliterated,  and  all  for  a 
word,  probably  spoken  in  choler,  or  under  excitement, 
misinformation,  or  pressure  of  care  which  paralyse,  if  not 
unhinge,  the  mind.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  empty,  mean, 
timid  pride  which  goes  by  the  name  of  *  honour.' 


THE  THEORY  OF   EPITHETS  9I 

Let  two  persons  talk  together  with  all  deliberation  and 
caution,  and  note  how  many  expletives  they  employ — how 
many  errors  they  commit — how  insequential  are  their 
thoughts,  and  often  how  inexact  their  language.  How  few 
ready  writers  or  speakers  are  precise — how  few  are  continu- 
ously coherent — how  much  is  said  which  is  never  meant, 
even  by  those  who  are  careful !  How  few  acquire  the 
habit  of  thinking  before  they  speak  !  Does  not  the  lawyer, 
whose  life  is  a  study  of  accuracy,  find  the  carefully  debated 
Act  of  Parliament  open  to  three  or  four  interpretations? 
And  does  not  the  philosopher  daily  regret  the  vagueness  of 
human  language  ?  Then  on  what  principle  of  good  sense 
can  men,  without  careful  inquiry  as  to  the  actual  meaning 
of  others,  hurl  at  them  noxious  epithets?  All  might 
usefully  bear  in  mind  the  Arab  saying  (which,  indeed,  is  the 
moral  of  this  chapter)  lately  rendered  by  Constantia  Brooks 
in  the  Cetiiury : — 

Remember,  three  things  come  not  back  ; 
The  arrow  sent  upon  its  track — 
It  will  not  swerve,  it  will  not  stay 
Its  speed  ;  it  flies  to  wound  or  slay. 

The  spoken  word,  so  soon  forgot 
By  thee  ;  but  it  has  perished  not ; 
In  other  hearts  'tis  living  still, 
And  doing  work  for  good  or  ill. 

And  the  lost  opportunity, 

That  Cometh  back  no  more  to  thee. 

In  vain  thou  weepest,  in  vain  dost  yearn, 

Those  three  will  never  more  return. 


CHAPTER   XV 

METHOD    IN    EXPRESSION 

Method  is  policy  in  statement,  and  relates  mainly  to 
arrangement  of  the  parts  of  a  discourse.  When  I  was  a 
Social  Missionary  in  Robert  Owen's  days,  one  of  my 
colleagues  was  a  tailor — Mr  Speir — who  had  only  such 
knowledge  as  a  person  of  his  occupation  could  acquire  him- 
self; but  he  had  so  fine  a  faculty  of  method  that  what  he 
did  know  relating  to  any  subject  he  spoke  upon,  was  set 
forth  with  such  masterly  lucidity — each  succeeding  part 
following  from  the  preceding  one — that  he  produced  more 
conviction  than  other  lecturers  with  many  times  his  know- 
ledge. When  I  was  a  learner  and  a  listener  to  lectures  in 
the  Birmingham  Mechanics'  Institution,  I  observed  that 
when  a  man  of  great  repute  in  his  department  addressed 
us,  he  was  the  simplest  and  most  lucid  of  all — said  the 
least,  and  taught  us  most. 

Coleridge  asks,  '  What  is  it  that  first  strikes  us,  and  strikes 
us  at  once,  in  a  man  of  education,  and  which,  among  edu- 
cated men,  so  instantly  distinguishes  the  man  of  superior 
mind?  Not  always  the  weight  or  novelty  of  his  remarks, 
nor  always  the  interest  of  the  facts  which  he  communicates 
— for  the  subject  of  conversation  may  chance  to  be  trivial, 
and  its  duration  to  be  short.  Still  less  can  any  just  admira- 
tion arise  from  any  peculiarity  in  his  words  and  phrases. 
The  true  cause  of  the  impression  made  on  us  is  that  his 
mind  is  methodical.     We  perceive  this  in  the  unpremedi- 

92 


METHOD  IN   EXPRESSION  93 

tated  and  evidently  habitual  arrangement  of  his  words, 
flowing  spontaneously  and  necessarily  from  the  clearness  of 
the  leading  idea,  from  which  distinctness  of  mental  vision, 
when  men  are  fully  accustomed  to  it,  they  obtain  a  habit 
of  foreseeing  at  the  beginning  of  every  sentence  how  it 
is  to  end,  and  how  all  its  parts  may  be  brought  out  in  the 
best  and  most  orderly  succession.  However  irregular  and 
desultory  the  conversation  may  happen  to  be,  there  is 
method  in  the  fragments.'  Those  who  try  it  will  find  that 
a  little  method  is  worth  a  great  deal  of  memory. 

'Since  custom,'  says  the  wise  Bacon,  *is  the  principal 
magistrate  of  a  man's  life,  let  him,  by  all  means,  endeavour 
to  obtain  good  customs.'  Digressiveness  is  the  natural 
action  of  the  human  faculties,  till  custom  or  habit  come  in 
to  give  them  a  settled  direction.  Man  is  as  liable,  and 
more  liable,  to  be  influenced  by  the  last  impression  than  by 
any  preceding  one ;  and  the  liability  of  man  is  the  char- 
acteristic of  children.  The  teacher  knows  this.  It  is  the 
object  of  discipline  to  check  the  tendency  to  digression,  and 
give  stability  to  method.  A  man  may  be  made  to  perceive 
method,  but  not  to  follow  it,  without  the  power  of  disciphne. 
A  child  accustomed  to  it  will  go  to  bed  in  the  dark  with 
peace  and  pleasure,  but  all  the  rhetoric  in  the  world  would 
not  accomplish  the  same  end  without  habit.  Nothing  but 
habit  will  give  the  power  of  habit. 

Drawing  characters  in  novels  or  dramas  is  a  matter  of 
method.  An  original  character  of  general  interest  is  not 
easily  conceived.  Heroes  or  heroines  must  have  some 
characteristic  of  speech  or — better  and  more  difficult  to 
sustain — some  manner  of  mind,  by  which  the  reader  knows 
them  whenever  they  appear.  The  method  of  the  successful 
author  is  to  keep  these  characteristics  in  sight.  Coleridge 
thought  that  'the  character  of  Hamlet  is  decided  by  the 
constant  recurrence,  in  the  midst  of  every  pursuit,  of  philo- 
sophic reflections.'  Mrs  Quickly's  talk  is  marked  by  that 
lively  incoherence    so    common    with    garrulous    women, 


94  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

whereby  the  last  idea  suggests  the  successor,  each  carrying 
the  speaker  further  from  the  original  subject.  After  this 
manner : — '  Speaking  of  tails — we  always  like  them  that 
end  well — Hogg's  for  instance — speaking  of  hogs — we 
saw  one  of  these  animals  the  other  day  lying  in  the  gutter, 
and  in  the  opposite  one  a  well-dressed  man ;  the  former 
had  a  ring  in  his  nose,  the  latter  had  a  ring  on  his  finger. 
The  man  was  drunk,  the  hog  was  sober.  A  man  is  known 
by  the  company  he  keeps.'  As  Dr  Caius  clips  English, 
some  of  Bulwer's  characters  amplify  periods,  Scott  makes 
Dominie  Sampson  exclaim  'Prodigious.'  Dickens's  Sam 
Weller  talks  droll  slang.  In  other  and  highest  forms  of 
art,  an  overwhelming  passion  pervades  a  character,  or  an 
intellectual  idiosyncrasy  is  the  peculiar  quality,  leading  the 
possessor  to  look  at  everything  in  a  given  light.  But  what- 
ever may  be  the  feature  fixed  upon,  its  methodical  working 
out  constitutes  individuality  of  character. 

In  the  preceding  paragraph  the  reader  has  met  with  this 
sentence :  '  We  saw  the  other  day  one  of  these  animals  (a 
pig)  lying  in  the  gutter,  and  in  the  opposite  one  a  well- 
dressed  man ;  the  former  had  a  ring  in  his  nose,  the  latter 
had  a  ring  on  his  finger.'  He  who  would  cultivate  direct- 
ness and  vigour  of  speech,  his  method  should  be  to  avoid 
these  hateful  trouble-giving  words  'former'  and  'latter,' 
and  even  '  one  '  and  '  other,'  as  representing  things  cited, 
unless  they  are  close  at  hand  and  immediately  before  the 
eyes,  as  in  Hamlet's  remark,  '  look  on  this  picture  and  on 
that.'  '  Former '  and  '  latter '  are  always  detestable,  as  they 
interrupt  attention  while  it  goes  back  to  look  for  the  thing 
referred  to.  Suppose  the  pig  sentence  above  quoted  was 
put  thus  :  We  saw  the  other  day  a  pig  lying  in  the  gutter, 
and  in  the  opposite  gutters  well-dressed  man.  The//^  had 
a  ring  in  his  nose — the  man  had  a  ring  on  his  finger.  Here 
is  methodical  directness,  and  no  doubts  raised  as  to  whether 
'  one '  refers  to  pig  or  gutter,  and  no  doubt  as  to  the  two 
animals  referred  to. 


METHOD   IN    EXPRESSION  95 

Next  to  those  who  talk  as  though  they  would  never  come 
to  the  point,  are  a  class  of  bores  who  talk  as  though  they 
did  not  know  what  the  point  was.  Before  they  have  pro- 
ceeded far  in  telling  a  story,  they  stumble  upon  some  Mr 
*  What's-his-name,'  whom  they  have  forgotten,  and,  though 
it  does  not  matter  whether  he  had  a  name  or  not,  the 
narrative  is  made  to  stand  still  until  they  have  gone 
through  the  tiresome  and  fruitless  task  of  trying  to  re- 
member the  name — in  which  they  never  succeed. 

When  Fadladeen  is  asked  his  critical  opinion  on  the 
poem  of  Feramoz  he  commences  thus : — '  In  order  to 
convey  with  clearness  my  opinion  of  the  story  this  young 
man  has  related,  it  is  necessary  to  take  a  review  of  all  the 
stories  that  ever  were  told — '  '  My  good  Fadladeen  ! ' 
exclaimed  Lalla  Rookh,  interrupting  him,  '  we  really  do  not 
deserve  that  you  should  give  yourself  so  much  trouble. 
Your  opinion  of  the  poem  we  have  just  heard  will,  no 
doubt,  be  abundantly  edifying,  without  further  waste  of 
your  valuable  erudition.'  'If  that  be  all,'  replied  the 
critic — evidently  mortified  at  not  being  allowed  to  show 
how  much  he  knew — 'if  that  be  all  that  is  required,  the 
matter  is  easily  dispatched.'  He  then  proceeded  to 
analyse  the  poem.  The  wit  of  Moore  here  satirises  a 
discursiveness  common  to  the  learned  as  well  as  to  the 
uninstructed. 

Prolixity,  says  Bentham,  may  be  where  redundancy  is 
not.  Prolixity  may  arise,  not  only  from  the  multifarious 
insertion  of  unnecessary  articles,  but  from  the  conservation 
of  too  many  necessary  ones  in  a  sentence ;  as  a  workman 
may  be  overladen  not  only  with  rubbish,  which  is  of  no  use 
for  him  to  carry,  but  with  materials  the  most  useful  and 
necessary,  when  heaped  up  into  loads  too  heavy  for  him 
at  once.  There  is  a  limit  to  the  lifting  powers  of  each 
man,  beyond  which  all  attempts  only  charge  him  with  a 
burthen  to  him  immovable.  There  is  in  like  manner  a 
limit  to  the  grasping  power  of  man's  apprehension,  beyond 


96  PUBLIC  SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

which,  if  you  add  article  to  article,  the  whole  shrinks  from 
under  his  utmost  efforts.  'Too  much  is  seldom  enough,' 
say  the  Authors  of  Guesses  at  Truth.  'Pumping  after 
your  bucket  is  full  prevents  it  keeping  so.'  It  belongs  to 
method  to  limit  information  to  the  capacity  of  the  hearers 
to  deal  with  it,  as  well  as  to  the  capacity  of  the  speaker  to 
dispense  it.  The  mind  is  often  stricken  with  a  palsy  of 
thought ;  sometimes  with  a  paralysis  by  weight  of  informa- 
tion which  prevents  it  thinking.  It  was  probably  know- 
ledge of  this  nature  that  made  Hobbes  exclaim,  'If  I 
read  as  much  as  my  neighbours  I  should  be  as  ignorant 
as  they  are.'  The  word  'cramming'  excludes  a  selection 
of  knowledge  for  choice  in  use.  Cramming  is  filling  the 
mind  with  all  the  information  relating  to  many  subjects,  so 
that  thought  has  no  room  or  power  to  move  on  any.  It 
was  said — when  he  became  querulous  —  by  Mr  Somer- 
ville,  the  '  Whistler  at  the  Plough,'  that  Mr  Cobden  em- 
ployed him  to  cram  him  on  Corn-Law  questions.  If  Mr 
Cobden  employed  him  to  collect  outlying  facts  for  him,  he 
did  wisely.  Cobden  always  kept  his  mind  disengaged  and 
free  to  deal  with  relevant  facts,  as  was  manifest  in  his  judg- 
ment and  decision  in  what  he  brought  forward  in  argument. 
Mr  Spurgeon  wisely  employed  a  reader  at  the  British 
Museum  to  look  up  for  him  droll  sayings  of  humorous 
preachers,  which  he  used  with  a  discretion  and  fitness 
which  made  them  his  own.  It  is  method  which  directs  an 
orator  in  the  uses  of  illustration,  and  keeps  them  from 
becoming  the  substance  instead  of  the  light  of  a  discourse. 

Method  in  common  things  is  often  important.  A  good 
deal  may  depend  on  how  you  place  your  facts.  Some  years 
ago  it  was  the  custom  in  Glasgow,  when  a  fire  broke  out  in 
the  evening,  for  the  police  to  enter  the  theatre  and  announce 
the  fire  and  the  locality,  that  if  any  person  concerned  was 
present,  he  might  be  apprised  of  his  impending  loss.  On 
one  occasion,  when  the  watch  commenced  to  announce 
'  Fire — 45   Candleriggs,'   the  audience   took  alarm  at  the 


METHOD  IN   EXPRESSION  97 

word  '  Fire,'  and  concluded  that  it  applied  to  the  theatre. 
A  rush  ensued,  which  prevented  the  full  notice  being  heard, 
and  several  persons  lost  their  lives.  The  inversion  of  the 
order  of  announcement,  '45  Candleriggs  on  Fire,'  would 
have  prevented  the  disaster.  But  afterwards,  the  practice  of 
such  announcements  was  forbidden,  as  though  it  were  im- 
possible to  reform  the  rhetoric  of  policemen. 

A  like  want  of  method  appeared  on  the  tombstone  of  a 
preacher  who  died  in  India,  which  ran  thus  :  '  Sacred  to  the 
memory  of  the  Rev.  David  Zelus,  who,  after  twenty  years  of 
unremitting  labour  as  a  missionary,  was  accidentally  shot  by 
his  steward.'  Then  followed  the  line,  'Well  done,  thou 
good  and  faithful  servant.'  The  object  was  not  to  praise 
the  man  for  killing  his  minister,  but  the  line  was  so  placed 
as  to  do  it. 

What  eloquence  is  more  touching,  as  a  rule,  than  that 
of  a  simple  tale  of  actual  wrong  ?  Dispassionateness  gives 
the  air  of  truth.  Controlled  passion  leads  us  to  suspect 
the  partisan.  Invective  is  the  twin  brother  of  exaggeration. 
The  suffrage  of  mankind  is  always  on  the  side  of  dignity. 
When  a  man  feels  that  he  has  a  strong  case,  his  hearers  have 
less  excitement  and  no  self-returned  verdict.  A  man  who 
thinks  he  has  a  clear  case  can  safely  leave  it  to  the  judg- 
ment of  others.  No  barrister  makes  a  long  speech  to  the 
jury  when  the  evidence  is  all  on  his  side.  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelly 
never  shed  tears  except  when  he  had  Tawell  to  defend,  who 
had  confessed  his  crime  to  him,  nor  did  Sergeant  Phillips 
weep  save  when  he  knew  Courvoisier  guilty. 

As  has  been  said,  earnestness  is  an  element  of  force ;  but 
earnestness  must  go  only  as  far  as  the  hearers  will  believe 
it  to  be  real.  No  assembly  is  moved  by  an  intensity  they 
do  not  feel  to  be  well  founded  and  cannot  share.  It  is  not 
only  in  vain  you  say  more  than  your  hearers  will  believe ;  it 
is  against  you.  For  those  who  distrust  your  judgment  cease 
to  be  under  your  influence. 

Art  in  statement  is  like  cultivated   taste  in   exhibiting 

G 


98  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

treasures.  The  picture  or  statuette  must  be  seen  with  the 
glory  of  space  around  it.  All  crowding  is  distraction  and 
detraction.  Multiplicity  is  not  magnificence,  as  the  unedu- 
cated think.  Details  have  but  a  limited  place  in  statement. 
Out  of  place  they  are  meaner  things  crowding  about  the 
nobler,  hiding  the  proportions  of  beauty,  distracting,  tor- 
menting and  outraging  the  trained  eye  or  ear.  As  the 
mariner  sees  a  revolving  light  easier  than  a  fixed  one,  so 
an  object  alternately  dark  and  light  is  seen  more  clearly 
and  noticed  longer  than  uniformity  of  brightness.  In  the 
English  International  Exhibition  there  were  ten  tim.es  more 
objects  of  art  and  of  industrial  invention  and  skill  than  in 
the  French  Exhibition  of  the  same  character.  But  the 
French  produced  ten  times  more  effect  than  we  did,  because 
the  English  less  understand  that  space  is  a  part  of  splendour. 
Thus  in  literature  and  eloquence,  as  well  as  in  art,  it  is  a 
rule  of  method  to  let  the  main  points  be  distinctly  seen 
without  impediraentary  obstacles  or  the  shadow  of  an  alien 
attraction.  Bear  in  mind  that  diversion  is  dispersion  of 
power. 

On  the  principle  of  method,  things  related  should  go  to- 
gether, and  this  relationship  kept  in  view  not  only  assists 
the  understanding  of  the  hearer,  but  aids  the  memory  of  the 
speaker.  Forty-two  years  ago  (October  1854),  the  Quar- 
terly Review  gave  the  following  instance  without  showing 
or  knowing  its  origin  or  lesson.  Macklin,  himself  a  great 
actor,  one  evening  gave  a  lecture  on  '  Memory  in  Connec- 
tion with  Oratory,'  and  said  that  he  had  a  system  of  memory 
by  which  he  could  repeat  anything  after  once  hearing  it. 
Whereupon  Foote,  a  wit  of  that  day,  handed  him  a  paper, 
asking  him  to  read  it  and  then  repeat  it  from  memory. 
The  paper  contained  these  words  : — 

'  So  she  went  into  the  garden  to  cut  a  cabbage-leaf,  to 
make  an  apple-pie :  and  at  the  same  time  a  great  she-bear, 
coming  up  the  street,  pops  its  head  into  the  shop.  "  What  ? 
No  soap,"     So  he  died,  and  she  very  imprudently  married 


METHOD  IN   EXPRESSION  99 

the  barber,  and  there  were  present  the  Picninnies,  and  the 
Joblillies,  and  the  GarceUes,  and  the  grand  Panjandrum 
himself,  with  the  little  round  button  at  top;  and  they  all 
fell  to  playing  the  game  of  catch  as  catch  can,  till  the  gun- 
powder ran  out  at  the  heels  of  their  boots.' 

Macklin's  Art  of  Memory  failed  him  straightway.  The 
utter  disconnection  of  every  idea  presented  with  that  which 
went  before — the  total  absence  of  all  relationship  defeated 
him.  Relationship,  the  principle  of  method,  is  the  hand- 
maid of  memory.  The  very  rudiment  of  method  is  to  have 
a  point  and  keep  to  it — that  is,  to  let  the  march  of  speech 
lead  direct  to  it.  Remember,  the  shortest  distance  to  any 
point  is  a  straight  line.  One  who  knew  says  :  '  Keep  always 
to  the  point,  or  with  an  eye  upon  it ; '  and  instead  of  saying 
things  to  make  people  stare  and  wonder,  say  what  will  with- 
hold them  hereafter  from  wondering  and  staring.  To  make 
remote  things  tangible,  common  things  extensively  useful, 
useful  things  common,  is  philosophy. 

If  you  wish  a  traveller  to  reach  a  distant  town — by  a  way 
unknown  to  him — you  endeavour  to  select  for  him  a  way 
free  from  cross-roads,  lest  he  may  turn  aside  and  lose  him- 
self. An  exordium  should  be  of  this  character,  that  the 
understanding  may  pass  uninterruptedly  into  the  heart  of 
the  subject.  Motley  terms,  questionable  assertions,  disput- 
able dogmas,  are  the  cross-roads;  so  much  like  the  real 
road  that  the  traveller  after  truth  often  loses  himself  before 
he  is  half  way  on  his  journey. 

A  discerning  writer,  John  Morley,  I  think,  in  his  book 
on  Burke,  says  : — '  Of  the  effect  of  the  want  of  method 
in  neutraUsing  the  most  magnificent  powers,  Burke  is  a 
remarkable  instance.  As  an  orator,  Burke  dazzled  his 
hearers,  then  distracted  them,  and  finished  by  fatiguing 
or  offending  them.  And  it  was  not  uncouth  elocution 
and  exterior  only  which  impaired  the  efficacy  of  his 
speeches.  Burke  almost  always  deserted  his  subject 
before    he    was    abandoned    by    his    audience.      In    the 


lOO  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

progress  of  a  long  discourse  he  was  never  satisfied  with 
proving  that  which  was  principally  in  question,  or  with 
enforcing  the  single  measure  which  it  was  his  business  and 
avowed  purpose  to  enforce  —  he  diverged  to  a  thousand 
collateral  topics  —  he  demonstrated  as  many  disputed  pro- 
positions —  he  established  principles  in  all  directions  —  he 
illuminated  the  whole  horizon  with  his  magnificent,  but 
scattered,  lights.  Having  too  many  points  to  prove,  his 
auditors  in  their  turn  forgot  that  they  had  undergone  the 
process  of  conviction  upon  any.' 

But  how  can  method  in  oratory  be  better  illustrated  than 
in  the  following  passage  from  a  morning  sermon  at  South 
Place  Chapel,  London,  delivered  by  W.  J.  Fox  when  he  was 
preacher  there : — 

'  From  the  dawn  of  intellect  and  freedom  Greece  has  been 
a  watchword  on  the  earth.  There  rose  the  social  spirit  to 
soften  and  refine  her  chosen  race,  and  shelter  as  in  a  nest 
her  gentleness  from  the  rushing  storm  of  barbarism ;  there 
liberty  first  built  her  mountain  throne,  first  called  the  waves 
her  own,  and  shouted  across  them  a  proud  defiance  to 
despotism's  banded  myriads ;  there  the  arts  and  graces 
danced  around  humanity,  and  stored  man's  home  with 
comforts,  and  strewed  his  path  with  roses,  and  bound  his 
brows  with  myrtle,  and  fashioned  for  him  the  breathing 
statue,  and  summoned  him  to  temples  of  snowy  marble,  and 
charmed  his  senses  with  all  forms  of  eloquence,  and  threw 
over  his  final  sleep  their  veil  of  loveliness;  there  sprung 
poetry,  like  their  own  fabled  goddess,  mature  at  once  from 
the  teeming  intellect,  gilt  with  arts  and  armour  that  defy  the 
assaults  of  time  and  subdue  the  heart  of  man  ;  there  match- 
less orators  gave  the  world  a  model  of  perfect  eloquence, 
the  soul  the  instrument  on  which  they  played,  and  every 
passion  of  our  nature  but  a  tone  which  the  master's  touch 
called  forth  at  will ;  there  lived  and  taught  the  philosophers 
of  bower  and  porch,  of  pride  and  pleasure,  of  deep  specula- 
tion, and  of  useful  action,  who  developed  all  the  acuteness 


METHOD  IN   EXPRESSION  lOI 

and  refinement,  and  excursiveness,  and  energy  of  mind,  and 
were  the  glory  of  their  country  when  their  country  was  the 
glory  of  the  earth.' 

Here  the  student  discerns  the  hand  of  a  master  of 
method.  There  was  no  cheering  at  the  close  of  this 
splendid  period,  but  the  rustle  of  dresses  and  stir  of  admira- 
tion as  the  congregation,  who  had  bent  forward,  sat  upright 
again,  told  of  the  enchantment  diffused  by  the  brilliant 
relevance  of  the  preacher. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

TACT    AN    ACQUISITION 

No  one  can  have  tact  who  has  not  taste.  How  can  a  man 
tell  which  is  the  best  thing  to  do  who  has  no  intelligent, 
preferences  ?     Tact  consists  in  graceful  conciliation. 

The  distinction  between  method  and  tact  is  illustrated  by 
the  following  practical  remarks  of  Paley  :— '  For  the  purpose 
of  addressing  different  understandings— for  the  purpose  of 
sentiment — for  the  purpose  of  exciting  admiration  of  our 
subject  we  diversify  our  views,  we  multiply  examples. 
[This  is  tact.]  But  for  the  purpose  of  strict  argument  one 
clear  instance  is  sufficient;  and  not  only  sufficient,  but 
capable,  perhaps,  of  generating  a  firmer  assurance  than 
what  can  arise  from  a  divided  attention.'  [This  is  method.] 
When  an  opponent  urges  an  objection,  one  way  of  reply- 
ing to  it  is  to  prove  that  the  assertion  contained  in  the 
objection  is  not  true.  Another  is  to  show  that  if  even  the 
assertion  be  true,  it  is  no  objection  to  the  position  taken. 
It  sometimes  happens  that  the  argument  advanced  against 
an  opponent  is  really  an  argument  in  his  favour.  Tact 
discovers  and  avails  itself  of  these  advantages.  Method 
arranges  the  materials,  tact  applies  the  resources  of 
reasoning. 

An  obituary  notice  of  Sir  William  FoUct  said  :— '  We 
do  not  mean  that  at  any  period  of  his  life  he  could  be 
described  as  a  scientific  lawyer.  His  professional  position 
was  attribirtcd  neither  to  the  superiority  of  his  professional 

102 


TACT   AN   ACQUISITION  IO3 

knowledge  nor  to  any  talent  above  his  contemporaries.  In 
Parliament  he  displayed  no  stores  of  political,  literary  and 
economical  information,  nor  versatility,  nor  vigorous  in- 
vective. It  must  be  admitted  that  he  was  neither  an  orator, 
nor  a  man  of  genius,  nor  a  man  of  learning,  apart  from  the 
speciality  of  his  profession.  He  had  neither  passion,  nor 
imagination  of  the  fancy  or  of  the  heart.  In  what,  then, 
lay  his  barristerial  superiority  ?  His  great  skill  consisted 
in  presenting  his  case  in  the  most  harmonious  and  fair- 
purposed  aspect.  If  there  was  anything  false  or  fraudulent, 
a  hitch,  or  a  blot  in  his  cause,  he  kept  it  dexterously  out  of 
view,  or  hurried  it  trippingly  over,  but  if  the  blot  was  on  the 
other  side,  he  had  the  eye  of  the  lynx  and  the  scent  of  the 
hound  to  detect  and  run  down  his  gam.e.  He  had  the 
greatest  skill  in  reading  an  aflSdavit,  and  could  play  the 
"artful  dodger"  in  a  style  looking  so  like  gentlemanly 
candour,  that  you  could  not  find  fault ;  but  in  reading  an 
affidavit  on  the  opposite  side,  he  was  cunning  of  fence.' 

Such  an  example  illustrates  legal  tact.  Tact  so  employed 
may  denote  a  clever  lawyer,  but  a  very  indifferent  man. 

Thom,  the  weaver  poet,  told  a  story  in  the  best  vein  of 
Scotch  shrewdness.  He  was  one  day  recounting  an  anec- 
dote of  Inverarie,  or  old  Aberdeen — the  point  of  the  story 
rested  on  a  particular  word  spoken  in  a  fitting  place.  When 
he  came  to  it  he  hesitated,  as  though  at  a  loss  for  the  term. 
'  What  is  it  you  say  under  these  circumstances  ? '  he  asked ; 
'  not  this — nor  that,'  he  remarked,  as  he  went  over  three  or 
four  terms  by  way  of  trial,  as  each  was  endeavouring  to 
assist  him.  'Ah,'  he  added,  apparently  benevolent  towards 
the  difficulty  into  which  he  had  thrown  his  hearers,    'we 

say !    for   want   of  a   better    word.'     This  of  course 

was  the  word  wanted,  the  happiest  phrase  the  language 
afforded.  He  'gained  several  things  thus.  He  enhvened 
a  narrative  by  an  exciting  digression,  which  increased 
the  force  and  point  of  the  climax.  He  created  a  difficulty 
for  his   auditors,   who,   when   suddenly  asked,   would   be 


I04  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

unable  to  find  a  term  which  seemed  denied  to  his  happy 
resource,  or,  finding  it,  would  distrust  it  and  not  have 
the  courage  to  present  it  to  such  a  fastidious  epithetist. 
Thorn  thus  exalted  himself  by  finding  what  appeared 
out  of  their  power,  and  excited  an  indefinite  wonder 
at  his  own  skill  in  bringing  a  story  to  so  felicitous 
an  end  by  the  employment  of  a  make-shift  phrase.  What 
would  he  have  done  if  he  could  have  found  the  right 
one  ?  was  naturally  thought.  This  was  tact.  It  was  a  case 
analogous  to  that  given  by  Dickens  in  one  of  his  early 
papers,  where  the  president  of  a  Club,  at  an  apparent  loss 
for  a  word,  asks,  '  What  is  that  you  give  a  man  who  is  de- 
prived of  a  salary  which  he  has  received  all  his  life  for  doing 
nothing ;  or,  perhaps  worse,  for  obstructing  pubhc  improve- 
ment ? '     '  Compensation,'  suggested  the  Vice. 

To  do  by  design  what  Thom  did  without  it  is  necessary 
to  choose  some  rare  and  happy  word  to  use  in  some  intended 
remarks,  and  keep  in  memory  two  or  three  other  words  which 
might  be  tolerable  in  that  place.  Hesitate  on  coming  to  the 
right  term,  inquire  for  it,  and  repeat  the  inferior  words  one 
by  one  and  dismiss  them ;  then  name,  as  though  it  was  just 
thought  of,  the  fitting  word.  Spontaneity  is  the  charm  of 
the  incident ;  but  all  is  spoiled  if  calculation  is  perceived  in 
it.  As  a  device  such  experiments  are  useful  to  the  student, 
as  practice  in  aptitude,  since  the  difficulty  of  finding  the 
right  word  at  a  critical  point  constantly  occurs,  when 
hesitation  is  not  artifice  but  inevitable.  As  an  artifice  it 
begets  distrust. 

There  is  tact  in  the  use  of  phrases  free  from  any  objection, 
E.  S.  Dallas  cites  Sainte  Beuve  as  throwing  out  his  meaning 
in  a  happy  phrase,  which  being  insufficient,  he  tries  another. 
That  is  not  quite  right.  By  one  phrase  which  falls  short, 
by  another  that  goes  too  far,  and  others  which  are  beside 
the  mark,  he  indicates  what  he  would  be  at. 

It  is  the  judicious  application  of  means  that  constitutes 
tact.     In  journalism  tact  is  indispensable.     The  history  of 


TACT  AN   ACQUISITION  10$ 

Mr  Murray's  daily  paper,  the  Representative^  published  for 
six  or  eight  months,  is  proof  that  unlimited  command  of 
capital,  great  literary  ability  in  every  branch  of  knowledge, 
and  the  highest  patronage,  are  all  insufficient  to  establish 
a  paper  without  tact.  Mr  Murray's  regal  and  legal,  ermined 
and  coroneted,  lay  and  clerical,  civil  and  military  friends, 
lacked  that  essential  gift,  or  the  editor  did. 

There  is  tact  in  reply,  as  when  a  gentleman  who  had 
been  out  shooting  over  a  friend's  estate  with  ill-success,  and 
was  anxious  to  learn  the  gamekeeper's  opinion,  inquired 
ingratiatingly  whether  he  had  ever  seen  a  worse  shot. 
The  gamekeeper,  unwilling  to  make  an  admission  which 
might  be  discomforting  to  his  master's  guest,  answered, 
'  Oh,  yes,  I  have  met  with  many  much  worse,  for  you  misses 
them  so  cleanly.'  An  Irishman  being  asked  by  two  ladies 
*  which  he  thought  the  older  ? '  saw,  with  the  quickness  of 
his  race,  that  if  he  made  a  distinction  he  should  get 
into  trouble  with  one  of  them,  replied  brightly,  'To  tell 
you  the  truth,  you  each  look  younger  than  the  other,' 
With  such  an  assurance  both  were  satisfied.  Douglas 
Jerrold  excelled  in  extricating  himself  from  a  difficulty 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  Overtaking  one  whom  he 
took  to  be  a  familiar  friend,  he  slapped  him  on  the 
back.  The  gentleman  turned  round,  looking  as  black  as 
a  judge's  hanging  cap.  Jerrold  said,  *  I  beg  your  pardon, 
I  thought  I  knew  you — but  I'm  glad  I  don't.'  Tact  of 
this  kind  depends  on  brightness  and  self  -  possession, 
qualities  capable  of  cultivation. 

It  never  occurs  to  some  people  that  gaiety  of  mind  is  a 
charm  on  the  platform  as  well  as  in  the  household.  They 
do  not  understand  that  cheerfulness  is  a  duty  towards  others, 
and  tells  upon  an  audience  as  well  as  upon  friends.  The 
grave  are  always  dull.  They  belong  to  the  charnel-house 
side  of  life.  Others  have  hedgehog  manners,  and  prick  all 
who  approach  them.  Hedgehogs  are  good  roasted,  but 
nobody  thinks  of  embracing  one  in  its  natural  state.     No 


I06  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

one  doubts  that  a  moderate  sense  of  tact  would  alter 
this. 

The  tact  of  consideration  for  others — in  the  respect  of 
personal  courtesies — goes  a  long  way  in  politics,  as  in  social 
life.  The  effect  of  the  want  of  it  Lord  Lytton  depicts  in  his 
'  New  Timon  '  in  describing  Lord  John  Russell : — 

How  formed  to  lead,  if  not  too  proud  to  please, 
His  fame  would  fire  you,  but  his  manners  freeze  ; 
Like  or  dislike,  he  does  not  care  a  jot. 
He  wants  your  vote,  but  your  affections  not  ; 
Yet  human  hearts  need  sun,  as  well  as  oats, — 
So  cold  a  climate  plays  the  deuce  with  votes ; 
And  while  his  doctrines  ripen  day  by  day. 
His  frost-bit  party  pines  itself  away. 

Public  geniality  had  been  good  policy.  Lord  Lytton 
measured  political  duty  by  the  standard  of  fashion,  which 
regulates  votes,  not  by  principle,  but  by  the  courtesies  of 
ministers.  That  Lord  Russell  had  amenity  of  manners 
when  duties  of  State  left  him  leisure,  is  proved  by  his  light- 
hearted  and  changeless  friendship  for  men  like  Thomas 
Moore  and  Leigh  Hunt,  whose  spirits  were  all  sunshine. 

Lately,  when  a  distinguished  peer  explained  a  passage  in 
a  speech  which  was  construed  against  him  by  adversaries, 
Mr  Courtney  said  a  man  might  do  three  things.  '  The  first 
was  to  stick  to  the  assertion.  Any  fool  could  do  that :  but 
all  the  same,  very  few  fools  did.  Second,  he  might  say 
openly  that  when  he  came  to  reflect  he  found  that  his 
words  went  further  than  his  thoughts.  That  was  the  heroic 
method.  The  third  way  was  not  withdrawing  the  words 
but  attenuating  the  meaning.'  The  best  tact  in  a  difficulty 
of  misapprehension  is  frankness — substituting  unmistakable 
words. 

Everybody  knows  the  difference  between  things  said  or 
done  anyhow,  and  said  or  done  with  consideration. 

Hearts  in  love  use  their  own  tongues  ; 
Let  every  eye  negotiate  for  itself, 
And  trust  no  agent. 


TACT   AN   ACQUISITION  10/ 

Shakespeare  understood  tact  in  love. 

Everyone  has  tact,  more  or  less,  when  they  are  interested 
— and  reflection  and  good  sense  will  make  it  an  acquisition. 
It  has  been  well  said  that  no  one  learns  to  think  by  getting 
rules  for  thinking,  but  by  getting  materials  for  thought. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

CONTINGENCIES    OF    PUBLIC   MEETINGS 

It  is  of  no  mean  importance  to  an  orator  or  speaker,  who  is 
invited  to  address  a  meeting,  to  make  himself  acquainted 
how  that  meeting  is  Hkely  to  be  conducted,  and  who  are 
announced,  or  are  likely,  to  address  it.  If  there  are  many 
speakers,  he  who  speaks  first,  or  second,,  or  at  any  time, 
must  be  brief,  in  courtesy  to  others.  If  the  speakers  are  not 
brief,  the  orator  who  has  decided  upon,  and  arranged  the 
order  of  his  arguments,  will  find  that  he  has  to  drop  out,  one 
by  one,  points  he  deems  important.  It  is  the  duty  of  a 
chairman  to  take  care  that  the  meeting — unless  one  of 
unusual  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the  auditors — should  not 
exceed  two  or  two  and  a  half  hours.  It  is  the  duty  of  the 
chairman  to  see  the  list  of  speakers  invited  to  address  the 
meeting,  and  arrange  with  the  convenors  of  the  meeting 
what  time  should  be  given  to  each,  and  notify  to  each  that 
when  that  time  is  nearly  up  he  will  make  known  the  same 
to  him.  Not  one  chairman  in  ten  ever  does  this,  nor  reflects 
that,  as  the  audience  is  responsible  to  him  for  maintaining 
order  in  the  meeting,  he  is  responsible  to  the  audience  for 
keeping  time  on  the  platform.  For  want  of  this  thought 
half  an  hour  of  time  is  commonly  wasted,  which  to  a  meeting 
of  five  hundred  persons  means  a  loss  of  twenty-five  days  of 
ten  hours  each.  In  fact,  meetings  are  frequently  prolonged 
till  eleven  o'clock,  which  might  have  been  concluded  at  ten, 
which  to  an  audience  of  a  thou.sand  persons  implies  a  loss 

loS 


CONTINGENCIES   OF   PUBLIC   MEETINGS        IO9 

of  fifty  working  days  of  ten  hours.  This  needless  extension 
of  the  duration  of  the  meeting  means  the  adulteration  of 
the  proceedings,  by  prolixity,  decrease  of  animation,  and 
weariness  to  hearers,  who  become  less  inclined  to  attend 
meetings  which  no  one  knows  when  they  will  end.  The 
speaker  who  is  called  upon  late  should  understand  these 
contingencies,  and  take  them  into  account  by  speaking  with 
what  directness  and  energy  he  can.  I  have  heard  Mr  Bright 
kindle  a  fire  of  enthusiasm  at  a  Birmingham  meeting  which 
was  breaking  up  late  and  listlessly.  But  this  is  only  possible 
to  orators  of  the  type  of  those  who  Mark  Antony  said  once 
stirred  the  stones  of  Rome.  Under  such  circumstances  the 
ordinary  speaker  would  be  ineffectual ;  and  late  speakers  at 
exhausted  meetings  will  do  well  to  say  little  or  nothing — for 
a  speech  which  would  be  successful  when  the  meeting  was 
fresh  or  unwearied,  will  command  no  attention  later. 

Sometimes  a  special  paper  is  read  at  a  meeting,  under  an 
announcement  that  no  paper  is  to  exceed  twenty  minutes  in 
length.  It  will  probably  extend  to  forty  or  fifty  minutes  ;  and 
those  who  gave  the  pledge  that  twenty  minutes  should  be  its 
limit  will  actually  print  the  extended  paper  and  deliver  it  to 
the  appointed  reader,  although  they  see  that  no  one  could 
gabble  through  it  audibly  in  the  prescribed  period.  Thus  the 
succeeding  commenters  on  the  paper  confront  an  assembly 
of  wearied  and  baffled  listeners,  who  have  failed  to  retain  its 
excess  of  matter  in  their  minds.  It  is  well  that  succeeding 
speakers  understand  this,  lest  they  interpret  the  listlessness 
of  the  hearers  as  indifference  to  them.  There  is  another 
liability  from  which  a  speaker  whose  voice  is  not  loud  must 
protect  himself,  by  profiting  from  what  he  may  know  of  the 
vocal  capacity  of  others  likely  to  precede  him.  If  he  is 
allotted  to  follow  a  Boanerges  (a  son  of  thunder)  of  the  plat- 
form, the  contrast  will  be  against  him — say  what  he  will. 
But  if  he  speaks  before  them  he  will  be  heard  on  his  merits. 

Frequently,  a  public  meeting  is  called  to  consider  and 
discuss  some  question  of  importance.     Then  the  trouble  is 


no  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

cast  upon  the  chairman  of  discerning  what  the  main  point 
or  points  are  which  he  should  state  to  the  meeting — since 
it  is  his  duty  to  see  that  speakers  keep  to  them.  Anyone 
intending  to  speak  should  get  clear  ideas  on  the  subject 
himself,  since  he  will  speak  most  effectively  who  knows  what 
the  question  is  and  keeps  to  it.  The  business  of  those  who 
speak  at  conference  or  discussion  is  to  consider  alone  the 
question  stated  by  the  chairman  or  other  responsible  person 
— the  reader  of  a  paper  or  the  opener  of  the  question — and 
not  the  speeches  of  others,  except  so  far  as  they  relate  to  the 
main  point  at  issue.  A  speaker  who  understands  these 
things  can  attain  ascendency  in  the  meeting,  for  all  are  ready 
to  applaud  anyone  who  sees  clearly,  clears  up  confusion, 
and  leads  distracted  public  attention  back  to  the  point. 

When  a  speech  or  lecture  is  thrown  open  to  criticism, 
each  critic  commonly  expects  to  occupy  the  same  time  as 
the  speaker,  which  often  prevents  more  than  one  being  heard 
in  reply.  In  co-operative  meetings  this  is  prudently  pre- 
vented by  limiting  the  time  of  each  speaker.  It  is  not  the 
work  of  any  one  speaker,  but  the  work  of  many,  to  appraise 
and  comment  upon  a  whole  lecture  or  paper,  and  each 
critic  should  select  a  leading  point,  and  ten  minutes  would 
afford  time  for  an  effective  objection  if  one  could  be  raised. 
A  speaker,  therefore,  who  has  talent  by  which  he  can 
advance  a  cause,  or  add  to  the  pubUc  information,  should 
seek,  beforehand,  conditions  which  give  him  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity consistent  with  the  fair  chances  of  others. 

At  public  meetings,  where  opposing  parties  often  struggle 
to  be  heard,  confusion,  delay  and  ill-feeling  might  be 
obviated  by  each  party  pre-appointing  a  representative  of 
ability,  in  whom  confidence  could  be  reposed,  to  speak  on 
their  behalf,  and  by  those  calling  the  meeting  being  made  • 
acquainted  with  and  consenting  to  the  arrangement — the 
views  of  half  a  dozen  parties  could  be  advocated,  where 
the  views  of  one  are  often  heard  but  inadequately  and  im- 
patiently now. 


CONTINGENCIES   OF   PUBLIC  MEETINGS        III 

Sometimes  a  speaker  is  confused  and  disconcerted  at  a 
public  meeting  by  hearing  loud  calls  for  another  person  to 
speak,  and  thinks — as  I  have  known  a  reverend  orator  do — 
the  audience  are  impatient  with  him  and  want  to  hear  some 
one  else.  All  the  while  it  was  the  plot  of  an  ambitious 
publicist,  who  had  personal  admirers  whom  he  besought 
to  attend  meetings  and  call  for  him,  giving  the  impression 
that  he  was  in  public  demand.  There  is  the  story  of  the 
auditor,  at  an  American  meeting,  who  kept  calling,  'Mr 
Corkles;  let  Mr  Corkles  speak.'  At  length  the  Chairman 
said,  '  Can't  you  be  quiet  ?  Mr  Corkles  is  now  speaking.* 
'  That  Mr  Corkles  ? '  said  the  astonished  interrupter,  '  why, 
that  is  the  man  who  gave  me  a  half-dollar  to  holler  otrt  his 
name.' 

A  case  occurred  at  a  northern  meeting  some  time  ago, 
where  the  hall  was  so  crowded  that  those  wedged  far  in 
wished  they  were  outside.  One  man  who  tried  in  vain  to 
make  his  way  to  the  door,  and  for  whom  no  one  would 
make  an  opening,  began  to  call  out,  '  What  did  Mr  Gladstone 
say  ?  What  did  Mr  Gladstone  say  ? '  until  the  speaker  on 
the  platform  could  not  be  heard  and  the  audience  were 
incensed.  Whereupon  cries  arose,  'Turn  him  out,'  and 
the  man  so  anxious  to  hear  '  what  Mr  Gladstone  said,'  was 
turned  out.  When  one  who  had  assisted  in  his  ejection 
said  to  him,  '  What  was  it  Mr  Gladstone  said ? '  'I  have 
no  idea,'  was  the  answer.  '  Then  why  did  you  call  out  ? ' 
The  reply  was,  '  Because  I  w^anted  to  get  out ;  when  by  my 
becoming  an  interrupter  everybody  made  way  for  me.'  If 
the  arts  and  expedients  of  public  meetings  are  understood 
by  a  speaker,  he  will  not  be  needlessly  perturbed  by  inter- 
ruptions. Many  persons  cry  out  whose  object  is  not  at 
once  apparent,  and  whose  intentions  are  not  at  all  implied 
in  what  they  say. 

Public  meetings  in  the  country,  and  in  the  town  also,  are 
conducted  on  the  crudest  principles.  If  many  men  were 
disposed  to  take  part  in  the  meeting,  it  would  be  impossible 


112  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND  DEBATE 

that  any  business  could  be  transacted  under  several  days. 
The  assumption  that  every  man  has  a  right  to  be  heard 
could  not  be  acted  upon  if  half  who  usually  attend  public 
meetings  were  to  enforce  that  '  right.'  In  Saxon  days,  when 
a  public  meeting  consisted  of  a  small  number  of  persons 
under  a  tree,  every  one  having  the  right  to  speak  caused  no 
inconvenience.  It  is  strange  that  this  right  should  remain 
in  force  after  looo  years,  when  public  meetings  consist  of 
30,000  persons,  as  was  the  case  at  Bingley  Hall,  Birmingham, 
when  Mr  Gladstone  spoke  there.  Had  each  person  present 
claimed  the  right  to  be  heard,  and  insisted  on  it,  the  meeting 
had  lasted  six  months. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

WRITING    FOR   THE   PRESS 

Every  public  speaker  or  debater  is  likely,  sooner  or  later, 
to  come  in  contact  with  the  press.  He  will  need  it  to 
assist  in  making  known  his  view,  or  in  vindicating  himself 
against  the  adverse  criticisms  of  opponents,  or  in  correcting 
erroneous  reports  of  what  he  has  said.  Even  John  Arthur 
Roebuck,  the  most  direct  speaker  of  his  day,  had  to  do 
this.  Even  Mr  Cobden,  whom  it  was  difficult  to  mis- 
construe or  misunderstand,  had  to  do  this.  Even  Mr 
Gladstone,  the  most  circumambient  speaker  of  all — that 
is,  he  travels  all  round  his  main  idea,  and  not  only  explains 
it,  but  illustrates  its  purport — has  had  to  write  to  the  press, 
from  time  to  time,  in  vindication  of  his  meaning.  There- 
fore humbler  speakers,  who  may  one  day  be  pubHcists,  may 
be  interested  in  knowing  something  of  the  art  of  communi- 
cating to  the  press,  with  fewer  of  those  disappointments 
usually  ascribed  to  editorial  malevolence  or  neglect  of 
rising  genius,  when  the  fault  is  in  the  writer. 

Every  attempt  at  expressing  opinion  by  the  pen,  how- 
ever ill  it  may  succeed,  is  a  part  of  the  process  of  self- 
education,  and  often  the  only  mode  available  to  the  poor. 
Whatever  shall  render  this  more  practicable  and  common 
among  the  people  does  good,  and  to  this  end  a  few  rules 
are  submitted  for  the  guidance  of  correspondents  un- 
accustomed to  write  to  the  press.  Literature  is  a  re- 
public where  all  eminence  is  honourable,  where  none  can 

H 


114  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

attain  distinction  save  by  effort  and  patience,  which  are 
the  chief  forces  of  genius.  But  by  reason  of  the  necessary 
conditions  of  admission  being  overlooked,  many  sustain 
disappointment,  which  to  them  is  inexplicable.  The  con- 
ditions which  are  very  simple,  I  have  heretofore  expressed 
for  students  thus  : — 

I.  Use  large  note-size    paper,   because    a  larger    sheet 
covers  the  printer's  case,  and  hinders  his  work.     2.  Do  not 
write  on  the  back  of  the  paper,  as  while  one  side  is  being 
'  set  up '  what  is  written  on  the  back  cannot  be  '  gone  on 
with.'     3.  Write   with   dark-black    ink,    for   an   editor   will 
read  with  reluctance  what  he  sees  with  difficulty,  and  the 
compositor,  for  the  same  reason,  will  dislike  to  set  it  up. 
4.  Always  write  a  plain,  bold  hand  j  if  you  send  an  undis- 
tinguishable  scrawl,  it  will  be  thrown  aside  until  the  editor 
has  leisure  to  make  it  out,  which  may  not  be  until  the 
'interest  of  the  article  has  passed  away,'  and  it  may  be 
too  late   to  print  it.     5.  Remember,  that   whatever  gives 
an   editor   trouble   at   his    desk,    may   double   expense   in 
the  printing  office ;  the  printers  and  readers  waste  time  in 
deciphering  bad  MS.,  and  out  of  any  failure  in  interpreta- 
tion commonly  grows  a  charge  against  the  journal  for  '  mis- 
representing'  the  writer.     6.  If  you  know  that   the  editor 
will  take   any  trouble   to   oblige  you,    and  you   have   no 
scruples,  give  him  any  trouble  you  please.     If  you  are  rich, 
and  can  send  the  printers  a  guinea  for  making  out  your 
letter,  you  may  scrawl  like  a  gentleman.     If  you  have  a 
great   name,   so   that   the    responsibihty   of  anything   you 
write  will  attach  to  yourself  and  not  reflect  on  the  paper, 
express  yourself  how  you  will ;  you  may  scribble  with  a 
pin  on  butter  paper,  and  the  editor  will  try  to  make  it 
out.     But   if  the   editor   is   under   no   obligation   to  you, 
if  you  have  no  guineas  to  spare,  if  you  are  not  so  popular 
that  anything  must  be  printed  that  bears  your  name,  you 
had  better  cleave  to  good  sense,  good  taste,  clear  expres- 
sion, black  ink,  and  a  plain  hand.     If  you  cannot  write 


WRITING  FOR  THE  PRESS  II5 

plainly,  have  your  communication  copied  by  someone  who 
can.  Never  fear  that  an  editor  will  omit  or  abridge  your 
communication  without  cause.  If  it  have  value  he  will  be 
glad  of  it.  If  it  contains  only  relevant  facts,  and  be,  as 
all  relations  of  facts  ought  to  be,  briefly  told,  without 
declamation,  digression,  or  personal  imputation  on  others, 
it  will  be  impossible  to  abridge  it.  A  well-written  letter 
or  narrative  is  incapable  of  being  altered  or  abbreviated 
for  the  better.  Hardly  anything  is  ever  refused,  if  well 
written.  The  artistic  taste  of  an  editor  for  the  literary 
perfection  of  his  paper  is  a  ruUng  passion,  stronger  than 
personal  feeling  or  political  prejudice,  and  next  to  the 
love  of  fair  play  he  is  attracted  by  a  communication 
which  is  well  expressed. 

It  is  common  with  new  writers  to  put  all  they  have  to 
say  into  one  sentence.  A  long  sentence  is  most  diffi- 
cult to  construct  clearly  —  and  that  is  what  the  inex- 
perienced first  attempt,  though  not  knowing  how  to 
separate  distinct  pieces  of  information.  After  a  while, 
young  writers  discover  that  every  separate  idea  should 
be  separately  expressed,  in  separate  sentences.  Long 
sentences  are  wearisome  to  read,  difficult  to  understand, 
and  almost  impossible  to  correct.  This  fault  in  writing 
prevents  many  useful  articles  from  appearing  in  print 
Editors  cannot  find  time  for  re-writing  such  papers.  It 
is  a  common  complaint  that  editors  strike  out  the  'best 
parts'  of  papers  sent  them.  They  do  this  seldomer  than 
is  supposed,  for  editors  in  their  own  interest  are  com- 
monly good  judges  of  the  'best  parts'  of  letters  or 
other  communications  calculated  to  interest  or  allure 
readers. 

In  Mavor's  History  of  Greece,  which  used  to  be  a 
common  school-book  for  young  students,  may  be  read  in 
Chapter  XI.  such  sentences  as  the  following  : — 

'  Nicias  asked  merely  for  quarter  for  the  miserable  remains 
of  his  troops  who  had  not  perished  in  the  Asinarius,  or 


Il6  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

upon  its  banks.'  No  one  need  be  at  loss  to  discover  the 
superfluous  information  given  that  Nicias  asked  for  quarter 
for  'those  who  had  not  perished.'  No  general  asks  for 
quarter  for  those  who  have.  The  same  writer  tells  us  that 
'discipline  yielded  to  the  pressure  of  necessity.  They 
hurried  down  the  steep  in  confusion  and  without  order, 
and  trod  one  another  to  death  in  the  stream.'  Necessity  is 
all  '  pressure,'  and  it  is  not  necessary  to  specify  the  essence 
of  a  thing  as  operative.  It  is  needless  to  tell  us,  that  men 
all  'in  confusion'  'were  without  order.'  It  had  been 
better  for  Mavor's  History  and  his  own  reputation  had 
some  editor  put  his  pen  through  his  superfluous  words. 

When  we  discover  a  number  of  emphatic  words  employed, 
we  know  the  writer  or  speaker  has  no  sense  of  measure. 
'  When  Rigby,'  says  Disraeli,  '  was  of  opinion  he  had  made 
a  point,  you  may  be  sure  the  hit  was  in  italics,  that  last 
resource  of  the  forcible  feebles.'  '  Ordinarily,'  says  Schlegel, 
'  men  entertain  a  very  erroneous  notion  of  criticism,  and 
understand  by  it  nothing  more  than  a  certain  shrewdness  in 
detecting  and  exposing  the  faults  of  a  work  of  art.  Art 
cannot  exist  without  nature,  and  man  can  give  nothing  to 
his  fellow-men  but  himself.'  This  explains  all  the  student 
need  take  to  heart  at  this  point.  If  he  will  give  '  himself,' 
in  his  communications  he  will  be  interesting.  Cobbett  said, 
'the  secret  of  good  writing  is  to  talk  with  the  pen.'  If  a 
writer  will  put  down  his  sentences  in  the  free,  natural, 
unaffected  v/ay  he  would  speak  them  to  a  friend  in  talking 
over  what  interests  him,  he  will  find  favour  with  editors. 
If  a  man  is  dull,  and  his  dulness  is  absolute,  perfect, 
complete  in  all  its  parts,  and  coherent — he  will  often  obtain 
a  hearing,  like  Mirabeau's  head,  whose  entire  ugliness 
endered  it  alluring.  Perfect  stupidity  or  relevant,  unaffected 
good  sense  will  win  attention.  It  is  the  mixture  that  gives 
editors  trouble.  Delane,  the  editor  of  the  Times,  once 
struck  out  a  weak  sentence  and  an  irrelevant  remark  in  a 
letter  of  mine  to  my  great  advantage.     I  was  very  grateful 


WRITING  FOR  THE   PRESS  II7 

for  it.  But  it  is  rarely  an  editor  will  do  this.  The  writer 
is  almost  sure  to  charge  him  with  emasculating  his  com- 
munication, and  rather  than  risk  this,  the  editor  leaves 
out  the  letter. 

One  thing  the  correspondent  of  a  newspaper  should  bear 
in  mind  is— not  to  make  any  dishonouring  imputation  upon 
the  persons  he  writes  about.  Even  if  he  thinks  he  has 
been  wilfully  misrepresented  by  an  adversary,  a  reporter,  or 
by  the  editor,  he  had  better  not  say  so.  First,  because  he 
can  hardly  ever  be  sure  of  it.  Second,  because  he  can 
hardly  ever  prove  it,  and  it  is  a  serious  thing  to  make  a 
charge  of  dishonourable  wilfulness,  if  you  cannot  prove  it. 
Third,  because  human  capacity  for  seeing  things  the  wrong 
way,  and  drawing  the  wrong  conclusion  from  the  plainest 
premises,  is  so  universally  diffused  among  mankind  that 
you  can  hardly  ever  be  quite  sure  that  a  perversion  of 
what  has  been  said  is  really  wilful.  The  Dutch  proverb 
says,  '  It  is  misapprehension  which  brings  lies  to  town.' 
Now,  the  power  of  honest  misapprehension  is  very  strong 
in  well-meaning  people.  Besides,  the  editor  has  to  be 
consulted.  To  publish  a  personal  imputation  might  render 
him  liable  to  an  action,  and  he  may  not  like  it.  If  he 
inserted  the  imputation,  the  person  assailed  might  claim 
the  right  of  reply  and  might  give  his  assailant  '  as  good  as 
he  had  sent,'  which  might  convert  the  journal  into  a  bear 
garden,  and  the  readers  might  not  like  this. 

Finally,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  consider  what  kind  of 
person  the  editor  to  whom  you  write  is.  If  he  has  strong 
prejudices,  it  is  wisdom  to  say  as  little  as  you  can  which 
may  excite  him,  and  as  much  as  you  can  which  may 
conciliate  him.  If  you  wanted  to  borrow  half  a  guinea  you 
would  not  think  of  asking  the  first  person  you  met,  but 
would  cast  about  among  all  the  persons  you  knew  for  one 
likely  to  have  half  a  guinea  about  him,  and  give  some 
thought  as  to  the  best  way  of  addressing  him  likeliest  to 
induce  him  to  part  with  the  same.     An  editor's  compliance 


Il8  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

with  your  request  may  in  one  way  or  other,  sooner  or  later, 
be  worth  many  half-guineas  to  the  writer.  Thus  editors 
are  worthy  of  consideration  in  the  way  in  which  they  are 
addressed,  and  especially  in  the  nature  and  expression  of 
the  communication  sent  to  them. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

SOURCES     OF    TASTE 

Taste  is  a  part  of  good  oratory,  and  is  no  mean  equipment 
of  a  great  speaker.  No  man  goes  far  in  a  speech  without 
betraying  to  the  auditor  his  coarseness  or  refinement.  A 
man  may  be  an  orator  without  taste  and  command  ap- 
plause, but  he  never  commands  respect  without  it.  An 
orator  may  ruin  a  cause  by  a  single  phrase.  A  secretary  of 
a  great  political  party  in  Manchester  lost  the  election  of  its 
candidates  by  a  single  expression  which  wounded  the  self- 
respect  of  the  city.  When  Mr  Blaine  was  presidential 
candidate  in  America  his  election  was  lost  by  one  of  his 
advocates,  the  Rev.  Dr  Burchard,  who  had  coined  an 
alliterative  phrase,  which  he  thought  much  of,  but  had 
never  thought  how  it  would  be  regarded  by  the  great 
assembly  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  The  publicans,  the 
Catholics,  and  the  southern  party  had  been  won  over  in 
sufficient  numbers  to  give  Blaine  a  majority,  when  Dr 
Burchard  must  say  that  Blaine  would  be  victorious  over 
'Rum,  Romanism  and  Rebellion.'  This  rendered  the 
publicans  furious,  the  Catholics  indignant,  the  south 
vindictive ;  and  so  Blaine's  majority  was  dissolved  by  this 
odious  and  high-sounding  phrase.  The  phrase  cited  was 
said  to  be  *  bad  taste.'  But  bad  taste  means  bad  judgment, 
bad  knowledge,  and  disregard  for  the  feelings  of  others. 
To  assail  the  self-respect  of  adversaries  is  not  an  act  of 
taste — it  is  an  outrage.     Taste  is  preference  and  selection 

119 


120  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

in  personal  things,  of  that  which  neither  annoys  nor  harms 
others.  Persons  who  seek  to  excuse  or  escape  the  responsi- 
bility of  the  preferences  of  themselves  or  others,  will  say 
'there  is  no  accounting  for  tastes.'  Yes,  there  is.  Taste 
has  its  roots  in  habit,  in  education,  and  has  its  laws  and 
standards.  Town  Councillors  who  put  and  keep  up 
hideousness  in  the  town  they  are  appointed  to  improve,  no 
sooner  visit  the  Continent  than  they  acquire  taste  in  streets 
and  picturesque  open  spaces.  Space  is  the  first  condition 
of  a  fine  street.  If  dignity  cannot  be  given  to  a  town, 
gleams  of  brightness  may  be  let  into  it,  and  it  need  not  have 
raonotonousness  perpetuated  in  it.  Bad  taste  in  towns  can  be 
accounted  for.  It  is  owing  to  the  ignorance  of  its  chief 
inhabitants. 

Taste  in  writing  has  its  laws.  There  must  be  distinctness. 
There  is  writing  so  elegant  that  it  cannot  be  read.  The  first 
law  of  writing  is  that  every  letter  is  distinct  in  form  from 
every  other  letter.  One  form  of  letter  should  be  decided 
on  and  not  departed  from.  Neatness  and  plainness  follow. 
Taste  in  writing  is  founded  on  the  standard  that  it  can  be 
read  easily  without  trouble  or  effort,  and  no  single  letter  in 
it  can  be  mistaken  for  any  other  letter. 

Taste  in  truth  depends  on  accuracy,  clearness,  vitalness — 
that  is  its  usefulness  and  relevance. 

Taste  in  books  is  determined  by  width  of  margin,  clear- 
ness of  type,  strength  and  durability  of  paper,  apart  from 
the  binding  and  contents. 

Taste  in  mind  has  conditions  of  vividness,  perspicacity, 
force,  the  sense  of  proportion,  veracity  and  integrity. 

Taste  in  manliness  has  reference  to  symmetry,  grace  of 
movement,  resilience  and  health. 

Taste,  therefore,  is  not  wantonness  of  choice,  but  depends 
on  knowledge;  and  there  would  be  better  taste  were  it 
understood  that  the  quality  of  taste  is  the  outward  and 
visible  sign  by  which  a  person  betrays  his  attainments. 

Taste  in  oratory  has  also  its  laws  and  conditions.     One  is 


SOURCES   OF   TASTE  121 

that  no  illustration  should  be  used  without  reference  to  the 
subject.  If  the  object  is  to  lower  the  pretension  of  a  person 
or  thing,  the  illustration  should  do  it.  If  the  purpose  is  to 
exalt,  the  illustration  should  elevate  it.  I  knew  an  agitator 
of  no  mean  qualities  of  mind  defend  himself  before  a  judge, 
by  quoting  the  simile  of  Bishop  Warburton,  who  compared 
critics  of  his  way  of  thinking,  to  swine,  which,  though  not 
popular  animals,  were  yet  useful  in  routing  up  acorns  and 
fertilising  trees.  For  the  defendant  to  compare  himself  to 
unsavoury  swine  was  to  confirm  the  court  in  its  unpleasant 
impression  of  him;  whereas  his  interest  was  to  exalt  the 
character  and  services  of  the  agitator,  whom  he  might  have 
compared  to  the  explorer,  who  risks  his  reputation,  and  not 
unfrequently  life  or  liberty,  to  discover  new  advantages  or 
opportunities  for  his  countrymen,  who  may  never  know  him, 
and  if  they  do  neither  regard  him  nor  requite  him.  Such  an 
illustration  would  be  in  good  taste,  having  regard  to  the  de- 
fendant's purpose.  The  first  illustration  was  in  bad  taste, 
and  he  who  used  it,  who  was  an  orator  by  nature,  would  have 
seen  it  to  be  so  had  he  reflected ;  by  which  I  want  the  student 
to  see  that  one  of  the  conditions  of  good  taste  is  reflection. 

Proportion  is  also  a  form  of  taste.  To  those  who  have  that 
sense  in  art  or  eloquence,  disproportion  is  an  outrage,  and 
he  who  is  guilty  of  it  loses  the  power  of  being  impressive. 
Measured  and  relevant  words  intensify  rather  than  decrease 
vividness  and  imagination.  We  are  told  of  Dante  that,  great 
and  various  as  his  power  of  creating  pictures  in  a  few  lines 
unquestionably  was,  he  owed  that  power  to  the  directness, 
simplicity  and  intensity  of  his  language.  In  him  'the 
invisible  becomes  visible,'  as  Leigh  Hunt  said, — '  darkness 
becomes  palpable,  silence  describes  a  character,  a  word  acts 
as  a  flash  of  lightning,  which  displays  some  gloomy  neigh- 
bourhood where  a  tower  is  standing,  with  dreadful  faces  at 
the  window.' 

'  In  good  prose '  (says  Frederic  Schlegel)  '  every  word 
should  be  underlined ' — that  is,  every  word  should  be  the 


122  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

right  word ;  and  then  no  word  would  be  righter  than 
another.  It  comes  to  the  same  thing,  where  all  words  are 
italics,  one  may  as  well  use  roman.  There  are  no  italics 
in  Plato,  because  there  are  no  unnecessary  or  unimportant 
words.  It  is  a  sign  of  taste  in  writing  or  speaking  that  it 
needs  few  italicised  or  emphatic  words. 

Taste  is  also  part  of  the  art  of  commendation.  Most 
persons  carry  a  stock  of  hate  on  hand.  Censure  is  always 
ready-made.  But  praise  is  a  different  thing.  It  only  pro- 
ceeds from  generosity  or  gratitude,  and  those  are  deliberate 
sentiments.  A  man  may  rage  without  art,  but  he  cannot 
applaud  sensibly  without  it.  This  is  why  the  quahty  of  a 
man's  mind  is  more  easily  seen  in  his  praise  than  in  his 
censure.  Defamation  shows  his  feeling,  praise  his  under- 
standing ;  and,  if  he  wishes  to  give  an  idea  of  his  strong 
sense  of  a  service  rendered  him,  he  can  best  do  it  by  show- 
ing that  he  accurately  estimates  it,  and  this  is  the  only 
praise  anyone,  not  vain,  cares  to  receive,  or  which  is  an 
actual  tribute  to  him.  who  receives  it.  Taste  in  praise  is  rare. 
Its  principle  is  that  there  can  be  no  praise  except  from 
equals  or  superiors  who  can  measure  the  difficulties  over- 
come in  the  attainment  of  excellence.  Inferiors  may  admire. 
Mrs  Barbauld  recognised  this  in  her  admirable  line  in 
reference  to  the  inadequacy  of  the  creature  professing  to 
praise  the  Creator.  She,  as  Hooker  had  suggested  before 
her,  wrote — 

Silence  is  our  least  injurious  praise. 

Taste  in  manners  is  no  mean  attainment,  and  goes  for 
much  in  the  public  estimation  of  the  orator.  '  Do  manners 
matter  ? '  ask  some  who  have  not  thought  much  upon  the 
subject.  There  is  reason  to  think  manners  do  matter.  The 
proverb  says,  '  Manners  make  the  man.'  No  careful  speak- 
ing man  would  say  tliis.  There  are  persons  whose  manners 
are  coarse  or  brutal  at  times,  quick,  hasty,  abrupt  and  in- 
considerate, who  are  yet  tender,  full  of  feeling  for  others 


SOURCES  OF  TASTE  1 23 

and  generous.  There  are  others  who  are  all  suavity  and 
courtesy,  whose  souls  are  base  and  selfish.  Men  must  be 
judged  by  what  they  do,  as  well  as  by  what  they  seem. 
Nevertheless,  good  manners  are  good  as  far  as  they  go. 
Everybody  knows  this ;  even  those  who  affect  to  despise 
courtesy  as  servility  or  mealy-mouthedness,  are  quickly 
stung  themselves  and  irritated  and  implacable,  if  they  find 
themselves  treated  with  discourtesy.  Bad  manners  give  a 
bad  impression  of  a  good  heart,  and  a  bad  presentment 
gives  a  bad  impression  of  a  good  cause. 

A  definition  should  not  only  help  you  to  find  a  thing, 
but  help  you  to  know  it  when  you  do  find  it.  How  many 
definitions  of  politeness  and  good  breeding  have  been 
given,  but  who  has  defined  it  in  such  words  of  light  and 
guidance  as  Swift,  who  said,  'Whoever  makes  the  fewest 
persons  uneasy,  is  the  bes  bred  man  in  the  company.' 

Politeness  is  thoughtfulness  for  others  and  forgetfulness 
of  yourself.  Good  breeding  is  consideration  for  the  pleasure 
of  those  about  you.  It  is  the  same  in  palace  and  cottage  ; 
in  the  highest  assembly  and  the  lowest ;  in  Parliament  or  a 
town  council ,'  in  pulpit  or  on  the  platform  ;  at  the  fireside 
or  in  the  street.  It  is  possible  to  all  in  the  workshops,  in 
the  mill,  or  in  the  store.  It  is  not  rank,  it  is  not  wealth,  it 
is  not  learning  that  constitutes  good  breeding.  Good  breed- 
ing is  good  feeling,  and  it  is  good  taste  to  remember  it. 


CHAPTER    XX 

PREMEDITATION    IN    SPEECH 

Premeditation  is  but  thoughtfulness  in  speech,  and  he 
who  speaks  without  thought  will  soon  have  hearers  who  will 
pay  him  no  attention.  He  who  speaks  without  preparing 
what  he  will  say  is  but  a  gambler  in  oratory  who  trusts  to 
the  right  dice  turning  up  as  he  proceeds.  Preparation  is 
premeditation. 

A  book  is  not  written — a  poem  is  not  written,  a  play  is 
not  planned,  a  picture  is  not  painted — without  premedita- 
tion. If  they  are,  the  book  will  lack  arrangement — the  poem 
will  be  wanting  in  grace,  the  play  will  be  deficient  in  con- 
struction, and  the  picture  will  not  be  the  best  expression  of 
the  artist's  powers.  Of  course  there  are  exceptions.  Inspira- 
tion may  come  like  a  flash  of  light  and  reveal  a  remarkable 
design ;  but  though  premeditation  is  not  in  it,  and  could 
not  produce  it,  meditation  alone  can  perfect  the  design. 
Speeches  are  the  better  for  premeditation.  Even  sermons 
are  improved  by  it.  A  young  candidate  for  holy  orders 
had  to  preach  his  trial  sermon  before  Archbishop  VVhately. 
That  experienced  prelate  discovered  crudeness  of  arrange- 
ment and  want  of  finish  of  expression  in  what  he  heard, 
and  asked  the  young  preacher  whether  he  was  accustomed 
to  prepare  his  discourses.  He  answered  that  he  was  not, 
as  he  trusted  to  the  divine  promise — '  In  the  hour  in  which 
you  have  to  speak  it  shall  be  given  to  you  what  you  shall. 
say.'     The   Archbishop    remarked   that   that    promise   was 

124 


PREMEDITATION    IN    SPEECH  125 

given  to  the  Apostles,  and  unless  he  was  sure  that  he  was 
an  apostle  it  might  not  apply  to  him.  The  candidate  had 
trust  and  piety,  without  which  preaching  is  ineffective,  but 
the  shrewd  prelate  knew  that  without  preparation  piety 
could  seldom  commend  its  cause  in  the  pulpit. 

Orators  of  renown  have  not  disdained  to  premeditate 
their  speeches,  both  in  Parliament  and  on  the  platform. 
Porson  said  that  'Pitt  carefully  considered  his  sentences 
before  he  uttered  them,  but  that  Fox  threw  himself  into 
the  middle  of  his,  and  left  it  to  God  Almighty  to  get  him 
out  again.'  But  those  who  lack  the  splendid  confidence  of 
Charles  James  Fox  had  better  acquire  that  sureness  in  speech 
affirmed  of  a  certain  French  speaker,  whose  sentences  were 
like  cats — when  showered  into  the  air  they  found  their  feet 
without  trouble. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  greatest  masters  of 
oratory  have  been  sensible  of  the  value,  and  have  practised 
premeditation.  It  is  only  the  young,  would-be  speaker  who 
expects  to  be  great  without  effort,  or  whose  vanity  leads 
him  to  impose  upon  others  the  belief  that  he  is  perfect  at 
will — and  needs  no  preparation.  One  of  the  biographers 
of  Canning  tells  us  that  he  was  himself  fastidious  to  excess 
about  the  slightest  terms  of  expression.  He  would  correct 
his  speeches  and  amend  their  verbal  graces.  He  was  not 
singular  in  this.  Burke,  whom  he  is  said  to  have  closely 
studied,  did  the  same.  Sheridan  always  prepared  his 
speeches  ;  the  highly-wrought  passages  in  his  speech  on  the 
Hastings  impeachment  were  written  beforehand  and  com- 
mitted to  memory,  and  the  differences  were  so  marked  that 
the  audience  could  readily  distinguish  between  the  ex- 
temporaneous passages  and  those  that  were  premeditated. 
Canning's  alterations  were  frequently  so  minute  and  exten- 
sive that  the  printers  found  it  easier  to  recompose  the 
matter  afresh  in  type  than  to  correct  it.  This  is  to  be 
amendment  mad.  Frugality  in  revision  is  as  much  a  mark 
of  sanity  as  frugality  in  metaphors. 


126  PUBLIC  SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Oratory  in  this  country  is  less  good  than  it  would  be, 
owing  to  the  foolish  contempt  for  '  cut-and-dried  speeches,' 
till  it  has  come  to  be  considered  a  sign  of  weakness  for  a 
man  to  think  before  he  speaks.  Those  who  travelled  with 
Shiel  when  he  spoke  in  the  country,  could  hear  him  in  the 
morning  repeating  his  intended  oration  in  his  dressing-room. 
Disraeli  said  in  the  Young  Duke,  '  Mr  Shiel's  speech  in 
Kent  was  a  fine  oration,  and  the  boobies  who  taunted  him 
for  having  got  it  by  rote  were  not  aware  that  in  doing  so 
he  wisely  followed  the  example  of  Pericles,  Demosthenes, 
Lycias,  Isocrates,  Hortensius,  Cicero,  Caesar,  and  every 
great  orator  of  antiquity.' 

The  orations  or  compositions  of  Demosthenes  are  not 
distinguished  by  ornament  and  splendour.  It  is  an  energy 
of  thought  which  raises  him  above  his  species.  He  appears 
not  to  attend  to  words,  but  to  things.  We  forget  the  orator, 
and  think  of  the  subject.  Demades  says,  that  Demosthenes 
spoke  better  on  some  few  occasions  when  he  spoke  unpre- 
meditatedly.  Probably  he  spoke  well  in  some  of  these 
instances,  but  it  was  the  result  of  power  acquired  by  the 
habit  of  preparation.  As  a  general  rule,  he  who  thinks 
twice  before  speaking  once,  will  speak  twice  the  better 
for  it  when  he  has  no  time  to  think. 

When  Macaulay  was  about  to  address  the  House  of 
Commons  his  anxious  and  restless  manner  betrayed  his 
intention.  Still,  he  was  regardless  of  the  laugh  of  the 
witlings,  and  continued  intent  on  his  effort.  This  is  the 
real  courage  that  does  things  well — the  courage  that  is 
neither  laughed  nor  frowned  from  its  purpose. 

Macaulay  spoke  early  in  the  evening,  before  the  jarring  of 
the  debate  confused  him,  or  long  attention  enfeebled  his 
powers.  When  the  great  Lord  Chatham  was  to  appear  in 
public  he  took  much  pains  about  his  dress,  and  in  his  last 
speech  he  arranged  his  flannels  in  graceful  folds.  He  was 
carried  into  the  House  when  near  death.  It  need  not  then 
detract  from  our  respect  for  Erskine,  says  Lord  Campbell 


PREMEDITATION    IN    SPEECH  12/ 

in  his  Lives  of  the  Chancellors^  that  *  when  he  went  down  into 
the  country  on  special  retainers,  he  examined  the  court  the 
night  before  the  trial,  in  order  to  select  the  most  advan- 
tageous place  for  addressing  the  jury.  On  the  cause  being 
called,  the  crowded  audience  were  perhaps  kept  waiting  a 
few  minutes  before  the  celebrated  stranger  made  his  appear- 
ance; a  particularly  nice  wig,  and  a  pair  of  new  yellow 
gloves,  distinguished  and  embellished  his  person  beyond 
the  ordinary  costume  of  the  barrister  of  the  circuit.' 

Amid   the    applause    bestowed    upon    premeditation,   it 
would  not  be  just  to  omit  the  ridicule  with  which  it  has 
been  visited  by  Sydney  Smith,  who  said,  '  It  is  only  by  the 
fresh  feelings  of  the  heart  that  mankind  can  be  very  power- 
fully affected.     What  can  be  more  ludicrous  than  an  orator 
delivering   stale  indignation  and  ■  fervour  of  a  week   old  ? 
turning  over  whole  pages  of  violent  passions,  written  out  in 
German  text;  reading   the  trophes   and  apostrophes  into 
which  he  is  hurried  by  the  ardour  of  his  mind,  and  so 
affected  at  a  preconcerted  line  and  page  that  he  is  unable 
to  proceed   any  further.'     True,   'it   is   only  by  the  fresh 
feelings  of  the  heart  that  mankind  can  be  very  powerfully 
affected.'     But  nature  is  always  fresh ;  and  he  who  repro- 
duces  nature  will   always   be   effective.     Macready   never 
stabbed  his  daughter  to  preserve  her  honour.     Yet  every 
man  was  moved  at  his  Virginius.     As  Othello,  Macready's 
'  indignation  '  at  lago  was  a  glory  of  the  stage  for  years ; 
yet  men  were  as  much  affected  by  its  intensity  as  on  the 
first   day  when   he  displayed   it.     The  speech  of  Antony 
over  the   dead   body  of  Caesar  was    '  written  in  German 
text '  in  thed  ays  of  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  it  was  *  cut  and  dried ' 
near  three  hundred  years  ago.     Yet,  whatever  our  satirical 
canon  may  say,  the  idea  of  premeditation  is  extinguished 
by  the  charm  of  perfect  expression,  and  the  passion  ex- 
cited, in  those  capable  of  realising  its  fitness  and  force,  is 
fresh  to    every   generation    of   hearers.     Lord    Brougham 
wrote  out  the  last  passages  of  his  speech  for  the  defence 


128  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

of  Queen  Caroline  nine  times.  Its  effect  was  a  triumph 
of  preparation. 

When  Dr  Black  had  a  class  of  young  men  at  the  Reform 
Association,  he  disciplined  them  in  rhetoric  by  causing  each 
to  marshal  his  discourse  on  a  chosen  theme  under  certain 
heads.  These  once  gone  over,  he  required  these  heads  to 
be  spoken  upon  by  inversion,  beginning  probably  with  the 
peroration,  continuing  with  the  argument,  taking  afterwards 
the  statement,  or  other  division  belonging  to  the  theme, 
and  ending  with  the  exordium.  Not  until  a  member  could 
speak  well  on  any  one  head,  and  in  any  order,  was  he 
deemed  master  of  his  subject. 

Professor  de  Morgan  remarks  in  a  paper  which  he  fur- 
nished to  Dr  Lardner's  Geometry,  that  to  number  the  parts 
of  propositions  is  the  only  way  of  understanding  them.  To 
identify  details  and  grasp  the  whole  are  the  two  indices  of 
proficiency. 

Margaret  Fuller  relates  how  backwoodsmen  of  America, 
whom  she  visited,  would  sit  by  their  log-fire  at  night  and 
tell  'rough  pieces  out  of  their  lives.'  This  disintegration 
of  events  by  men  strong  of  will  and  full  of  matter,  in  order 
to  set  distinct  parts  before  auditors,  is  a  sign  of  that  power 
which  we  call  mastery.  Ability  is,  always,  power  under 
command. 

Elsewhere,  in  describing  Colonel  John  Hay's  account  of 
Abraham  Lincoln,  I  have  said : — It  has  never  been  made 
so  clear  in  what  way,  and  by  what  qualities,  the  gaunt 
rail-splitter  attained  the  Presidency.  His  speeches  show 
that  he  excelled  in  seeing  all  the  way  into  a  State  problem 
and  in  power  of  perfect  statement  of  it.  His  account  of 
his  self-education  is  one  by  which  many  students  may 
profit  to-day.  Lincoln  said,  '  When  a  child  I  used  to  get 
irritated  when  anyone  talked  to  me  in  a  way  I  could  not 
understand  j  that  always  disturbed  my  temper,  and  has  ever 
since.'  He  '  hunted  after  the  idea  in  a  dark  saying '  until 
he  thought  he  had  caught  it,  and  was  not  satisfied  until  he 


PREMEDITATION    IN    SPEECH  1 29 

had  put  it  into  language  'plain  enough  for  any  boy  to 
understand  it.'  That  was  Lincoln's  answer  as  to  how  he 
acquired  the  art  of  '  putting  things  ' — which  does  not  come 
by  nature,  but  by  education.  In  studying  law-books,  he 
came  upon  the  word  '  demonstrate,'  which  excited  his 
curiosity,  and  he  studied  Euclid  until  he  had  mastered 
what  demonstration  meant  in  geometry,  and  afterwards 
applied  the  knowledge  in  argument. 

Gather  relevant  knowledge  anywhere.  Every  man  is 
indebted  to  others  for  much  information.  No  man  knows 
everything  by  his  own  research  and  verification,  unless  it  be 
Mr  Gladstone. 

Preparation  is  power;  nor  does  the  hesitation  which 
the  desire  of  exactness  sometimes  begets,  tell  against  the 
speaker.  Mr  T.  P.  O'Connor  says  of  Mr  Sexton  on  a 
famous  occasion : — 

'  He  spoke,  I  say,  slowly — but  at  the  same  time  it  was 
evident  that  he  had  his  mind  well  fixed  on  the  end  which 
he  wished  to  reach.  Nothing  adds  so  much  to  the  effec- 
tiveness of  oratory  as  the  sense  that  the  man  who  is  address- 
ing you,  is  thinking  at  the  very  moment  he  is  speaking. 
You  have  the  sense  of  watching  the  visible  working  of  his 
inner  mind  ;  and  you  are  far  more  deeply  impressed  than  by 
the  glib  facility  which  does  not  pause,  does  not  stumble,  does 
not  hesitate,  because  the  speaker  does  not  stop  to  think.' 

Humanity  is  the  instrument  upon  which  the  orator  has 
to  play,  and  he  had  better  learn  what  notes  it  is  capable 
of  before  he  begins.  Experience  in  Parliament  and  on  the 
platform  will  soon  teach  any  observer,  that  few  speakers  are 
worth  hearing  who  do  not  prepare,  and  prepare  carefully, 
what  they  want  to  say. 

In  writing  we  may  be  brief  and  suggestive,  because 
each  word  remains  to  be  pondered  over.  But  that  which 
falls  on  the  ear  not  being  so  permanent  as  that  which  falls 
on  paper,  fulness,  premeditation  and  varied  treatment  are 
indispensable. 

I 


CHAPTER    XXI 

REPETITION    A    NECESSITY 

Repetition  has  its  uses  and  necessities,  and  is  excellent 
in  a  speaker,  provided  he  does  not  repeat  himself.  Few- 
persons,  as  a  rule,  ever  understand  any  new  thing  on  its 
first  saying.  It  is  by  many  repetitions  in  many  forms  that 
a  new  idea  is  comprehended.  Leaders  of  opinion,  even  of 
the  soberer  sort,  have  within  my  knowledge  been  so 
captivated  by  reason,  as  to  overlook  the  conditions  under 
which  reason  acts.  They  have  been  so  moved  when  the 
reason  of  a  thing  has  become  plain  to  them,  that  they  have 
had  no  doubt  that  all  men  could  be  at  once  convinced  by 
the  same  exposition  of  the  facts.  The  processes  of  educa- 
tion should  have  taught  them  differently.  First  elementary 
principles  are  acquired,  then  successive  stages  are  reached 
until  the  whole  subject  looms  before  the  mind,  impressing 
it  by  its  completeness.  Every  step,  though  with  less  pre- 
cision, like  the  steps  in  Euclid,  recall  and  repeat  wliat  has 
gone  before. 

The  repetition  here  explained  and  commended  is  varia- 
tion in  statement,  and  means  presenting  the  same  idea 
under  different  aspects.  Every  important  principle  has 
many  relations  and  applications.  To  trace  these  and  show 
them  is  to  recall  the  cardinal  idea  without  wearying  the 
hearer,  who,  indeed,  is  often  charmed  with  the  range  of  view 
which  reveals  the  same  fact  operative  in  divers  circum- 
stances.    Bishop  Hall  said  of  moderation  that  it  was  the 

no 


REPETITION    A   NECESSITY  I3I 

'silken  string  running  through  the  pearl  chain  of  all  our 
virtues.'  To  trace  this  silken  cord  wherever  it  runs  in  the 
channels  of  possible  applications,  is  the  kind  of  repetition 
meant  in  this  chapter.  It  keeps  one  idea  always  in  view 
under  a  brilliant  diversity  which  instructs  and  charms. 
There  is  a  'damnable  iteration'  spoken  of  in  the  play. 
That  is  when  the  same  thing  is  said  in  the  same  way  in 
season  and  out  of  season.  He  who  is  always  obtruding  the 
same  view  upon  others  soon  becomes  tiresome,  and  people 
avoid  him  and  his  subject.  Repetition  as  a  part  of  rhetoric 
is  an  art,  and  is  limited  to  varying  attention  on  an 
essential  point  until  it  is  understood,  and  no  further.  To 
go  further  is  to  provoke  resentment  and  dislike.  Robert 
Owen  laid  down  five  fundamental  facts  and  twenty  laws  of 
human  nature.  There  were  a  million  ideas  in  them,  but 
because  he  often  repeated  them  in  the  same  language,  unre- 
lieved by  variation  and  illustration,  he  was  regarded  as  a 
man  of  *  one  idea.'  Another  generation  who  may  look  into 
his  works,  sayings  and  designs,  will  be  of  a  different  opinion. 
Splendid  enthusiasts  forget  themselves  in  their  desire  to 
serve  others,  and  leave  it  to  posterity,  who  will  reap  the 
advantages  of  their  disinterested  devotion,  to  do  them 
justice — if  so  minded. 

History  acquaints  us  with  the  wondrous  effects  of 
eloquence  upon  multitudes,  carried  away  to  far  crusades  by 
the  oratory  of  a  hermit.  Even  in  grave  political  assemblies 
and  parliaments,  a  great  speaker  can  persuade  so  that 
majorities  hang  upon  his  words.  Persuasion  is  a  task  of 
skill.  '  Inculcating  an  idea — disseminating  it — winning 
conviction  first,  and  inspiring  enthusiasm  after — is  often  like 
the  dropping  of  a  seed,  and  patiently  waiting  till  it  grows — 
fostering  it,  watering  it,  protecting  it,  until  it  expands  into 
stem  and  flower.  Such,'  said  the  Daily  Neivs  years  ago,  '  is 
the  political  eloquence  of  modern  times.  He  who  dis- 
covered it,  and  who  practises  it,  is — Richard  Cobden.'  It 
is  hardly  true  that  Mr  Cobden  '  discovered '  it.     He  was  its 


132  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

greatest  illustrator,  but  it  had  grown  with  the  growth  and 
commercial  character  of  the  nation.  Long  before  Cobden's 
time,  the  magic  fancy  of  Burke,  the  ceaseless  sentences  of 
Pitt,  the  thundering  declamation  of  Fox,  all  had  like 
features  in  lesser  degree.  The  king  of  American  trans- 
cendentalists  has  said,  that  '  eloquence  at  first  and  last  must 
still  be  at  bottom  a  statement  of  facts.  All  audiences  soon 
ask,  *'  What  is  he  driving  at  ?  "  and  if  this  man  does  not  stand 
for  anything,  he  will  be  deserted.'  And  he  will  be  deserted 
unless  his  hearers  see  the  same  facts  stand  firm  in  different 
lights. 

Matthew  Arnold,  says  a  writer  in  Scribner,  had  a  re- 
pellent endowment  of  one  kind  of  courage — '  the  courage  of 
repeating  yourself  over  and  over  again.'  It  is  a  sound 
forensic  maxim — tell  a  judge  twice  whatever  you  want  him 
to  hear ;  tell  a  special  jury  thrice,  and  a  common  jury  half 
a  dozen  times,  the  view  of  a  case  you  wish  them  to  enter- 
tain. *  Mr  Arnold  treated  the  middle-class  as  a  common 
jury,  and  addressed  them  with  remorseless  iteration.'  In 
introducing  a  new  topic  to  an  auditory,  it  is  well  to  repeat 
the  main  idea  in  different  forms  of  expression,  each  in  itself 
brief,  but  altogether  affording  an  expansion  of  the  sense 
to  be  conveyed,  and  detaining  the  mind  upon  it. 

It  is  given  to  well-calculated  reiteration  to  accomplish 
that  which  is  denied  to  power.  The  reputation  of  Robes- 
pierre— now  breaking  a  little  through  clouds  of  calumny  as 
dense  and  dark  as  ever  obscured  human  name — is  a  strik- 
ing illustration  of  the  omnipotence  of  repetition.  The 
most  eloquent  of  his  vindicators  has  thus  sketched  his 
triumph  :— 

'  Still  deeper  in  the  shade,  and  behind  the  chief  of  the 
National  Assembly,  a  man  almost  unknown  began  to  move. 
Agitated  by  uneasy  thoughts,  which  seemed  to  forbid  him 
to  be  silent,  he  spoke  on  all  occasions,  and  attacked  all 
speakers,  indifferently,  including  Mirabeau  himself.  Driven 
from  the  tribune,  he  ascended  it  next  day ;   overwhelmed 


REPETITION   A   NECESSITY  1 33 

with  sarcasm,  coughed  down,  disowned  by  all  parties,  lost 
amongst  the  eminent  champions  who  fixed  public  attention, 
he  was  never  dispirited.  It  might  have  been  said,  that  an 
inward  and  prophetic  genius  revealed  to  him  the  omni- 
potence of  a  firm  will  and  unwearied  patience,  and  that  an 
inward  voice  said  to  him,  "These  men  who  despise  thee 
are  thine :  all  the  changes  of  this  revolution,  which  now 
will  not  deign  to  look  upon  thee,  will  eventually  terminate 
in  thee,  for  thou  hast  placed  thyself  in  the  way  like  the 
mevitable  excess  in  which  all  impulse  ends."' 

Robespierre  had  power  of  thought,  distinction  of  person ; 
for,  though  a  democrat,  he  was  scrupulously  careful  of  his 
dress  and  of  his  language,  which  was  never  mean  or  inexact. 
Had  he  not  had  unusual  qualities,  his  pertinacity  had  done 
nothing  for  him.  He  had  sunk  into  obscurity,  or  have 
been  remembered  only  as  an  irrepressible  fool.  His  relev- 
ance of  thought,  and  his  studied  precision  of  expression, 
were  the  quaUties  which  at  last  commanded  attention. 

In  his  Historical  Characters,  Sir  H.  L.  Bulwer  (Lord 
Bailing)  remarks  : — '  Napoleon  complained  of  Talleyrand's 
repetitions,  saying  he  could  not  conceive  how  people  found 
M.  de  Talleyrand  eloquent,  "II  tournait  toujours  sur  la 
meme  idee."'  (He  always  turned  round  the  same  idea.) 
But  this  was  a  system  with  him,  as  with  Fox,  who  laid  it 
down  as  the  great  principle  for  an  orator  who  wished  to 
leave  an  impression. 

When  the  columns  of  the  Titnes  were  crowded  for  five 
days  with  reports  of  the  trial  of  Palmer  of  Rugeley,  the  lead- 
ing article  upon  it,  on  the  sixth  day,  when  the  trial  had 
ended,  gave  a  reiterated  account  of  the  fat,  rascally,  horse- 
racing  surgeon  who  poisoned  Cook,  an  article  which  the 
busy  man  could  understand,  though  he  had  never  read  a 
line  of  the  reports.  The  article  was  like  a  Scotch  house — 
self-contained.  It  was  lighted  up,  as  it  were,  by  freshness 
of  statement,  still  but  a  reflection  of  facts  the  readers  had 
seen  day  by  day,  but  could  not  recall  in  the  same  order  or 


134  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

with  the  same  effect.  One  object  of  repetition  is  to  bring 
into  view  all  that  is  necessary  to  present  a  complete  case  to 
auditor  or  reader.  It  is  of  no  use  listening  to  a  speaker  or 
reading  an  author,  if  you  require  first  to  hear  or  read  some 
one  else  to  understand  him. 

Reiteration,  without  tiresomeness,  is  not  only  an  advan- 
tage but  a  force.  One  who  knew  all  things  pertaining  to 
the  art  of  persuasion,  wrote  : — 

Truth  can  never  be  confirmed  enough, 
Though  doubt  itself  were  dead. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

SIGNS    OF     MASTERY 

Dr  Black's  test  of  mastery  (cited  in  Chapter  XX.)  is 
excellent,  though  arduous.  But  one  instance  alone  is  not 
sufficient  to  impress  the  reader  with  the  advantages  of 
mastery  and  the  signs  thereof. 

A  speaker,  like  an  actor,  is  liable  to  the  criticism  of  a 
casual  hearing.  The  auditor  who  hears  you  but  once  may 
form  an  opinion  of  you  for  ever.  Against  this  there  is  no 
protection  but  in  acquiring  such  a  mastery  over  your 
powers  as  to  be  able  always  to  exert  them  well,  and  to 
impress  a  hearer,  in  some  respect  or  other,  at  every  appear- 
ance. He,  therefore,  who  has  a  reputation  to  acquire  or 
preserve,  will  keep  sij^nce  whenever  he  is  in  danger  of 
speaking  indifferently.  He  wall  practise  in  private,  and 
train  himself  so  perseveringly,  that  perfection  will  become 
a  second  nature,  and  the  power  of  proficiency  never  desert 
him.  Those  who  think  genius  is  an  impulsive  effort  that 
costs  nothing,  little  dream  with  what  patience  the  profes- 
sional singer  or  actor  observes  regular  habits  and  judicious 
exercise;  how  he  treasures  all  his  strength  and  power 
for  the  hour  of  appearance.  There  must,  of  course,  be 
natural  power  of  personation  in  an  actor,  a  fine  voice  in  a 
singer,  and  that  instinctive  aptitude  and  capacity  of  excel- 
lence which  men  call  genius,  or  no  cultivation  will  produce 
more  than  talent.  At  the  same  time,  the  highest  natural 
endowment  of  genius  will  spend  itself  without  effect,  and 

I3S 


136  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

perish   devoid   of  renown,    unless   application    and   study 
develop  and  mature  it. 

The  triumphs  of  application  are  as  remarkable  as  the 
triumph  of  genius.  One  day,  an  acquaintance,  in  speaking 
of  Curran's  eloquence,  happened  to  observe  that  it  must 
have  been  born  with  him. 

'"Indeed,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  Curran,  "it  was  not;  it 
was  born  three-and-twenty  years  and  some  months  after 
me.  When  I  was  at  the  Temple  a  few  of  us  formed  a 
little  debating  club.  Upon  the  first  night  of  meeting  I 
attended,  my  foolish  heart  throbbing  with  the  anticipated 
honour  of  being  styled  '  the  learned  member  that  opened 
the  debate,'  or  'the  very  eloquent  gentleman  who  has 
just  sat  down,'  I  stood  up — the  question  was  the  Catholic 
claims  or  the  slave  trade,  I  now  forget  which,  but  the 
difference,  you  know,  was  never  very  obvious — my  mind 
was  stored  with  about  a  folio  volume  of  matter,  but  I 
wanted  a  preface,  and  for  want  of  a  preface  the  volume 
was  never  published.  I  stood  up,  trembling  through 
every  fibre ;  but,  remembering  that  in  this  I  was  but 
imitating  Tully,  I  took  courage,  and  had  actually  proceeded 
as  far  as  '  Mr  Chairman,'  when,  to  my  astonishment 
and  terror,  I  perceived  that  every  eye  was  turned  upon 
me.  There  were  only  six  or  seven  persons  present,  and  the 
room  could  not  have  contained  as  many  more ;  yet  was  it, 
to  my  panic-struck  imagination,  as  if  I  were  the  central  object 
in  nature,  and  assembled  millions  were  gazing  upon  me 
in  breathless  expectation.  I  became  dismayed  and  dumb. 
My  friends  cried  '  Hear  him  ! '  but  there  was  nothing  to 
hear.  My  lips,  indeed,  went  through  the  pantomime  of 
articulation,  but  I  was  like  the  unfortunate  fiddler  at  the 
fair,  who,  upon  coming  to  strike  up  the  solo  that  was  to 
ravish  every  ear,  discovered  that  an  enemy  had  maliciously 
soaped  his  bow.  So  you  see,  sir,  it  was  not  born  with  me. 
However,  though  I  was  for  the  time  silenced,  I  still 
attended  our  meetings  with  regularity,  and  even  ventured 


SIGNS   OF   MASTERY  1 37 

to  accompany  the  others  to  a  more  ambitious  theatre,  the 
club  at  Temple  Bar.  One  of  them  was  on  his  legs  ;  a 
fellow  of  whom  it  was  difficult  lo  decide  whether  he  was 
most  distinguished  for  the  dirtiness  of  his  person  or  the 
flippancy  of  his  tongue — just  such  another  as  Harry  Flood 
would  have  called  'the  highly-gifted  gentleman  with  the 
dirty  cravat  and  greasy  pantaloons.'  I  found  this  learned 
personage  in  the  act  of  calumniating  chronology  by  the 
most  preposterous  anachronisms.  He  descanted  upon 
Demosthenes,  the  glory  of  the  Roman  forum ;  spoke  of 
Tully  as  the  famous  contemporary  and  rival  of  Cicero; 
and,  in  the  short  space  of  one  half-hour,  transported  the 
Straits  of  Marathon  three  several  times  to  the  plains  of 
Thermopylae.  Thinking  I  had  a  right  to  know  something 
of  these  matters,  I  looked  at  him  with  surprise.  When  our 
eyes  met,  there  was  something  like  a  wager  of  battle  in 
mine ;  upon  which  the  erudite  gentleman  instantly  changed 
his  invective  against  antiquity  into  an  invective  against  me, 
and  concluded  by  a  few  words  of  friendly  counsel  to 
"orator  mum,  who,  he  doubted  not,  possessed  wonderful 
talents  for  eloquence,  although  he  would  recommend  him 
to  show  it  in  future  by  some  more  popular  method  than 
his  silence."  I  followed  his  advice,  and,  I  believe,  not 
entirely  without  effect.  So,  sir,  you  see  that  to  try  the 
bird  the  spur  must  touch  his  blood.' 

But  Curran  had  the  blood  of  oratory  in  his  veins,  or  the 
spur  had  pricked  him  in  vain.  The  pretentious  ignorance 
of  the  previous  speaker  afforded  the  very  'preface'  that 
Curran  wanted  to  his  volume.  Many  persons  of  real  power 
of  speech  can  never  present  themselves  to  an  audience 
unless  called  upon  or  provoked  by  some  egregious  thing 
said,  or  incited  by  a  sense  of  duty  that  something  not 
said  ought  to  be  said.  Then  the  effect  will  be  accord- 
ing to  the  knowledge,  capacity  and  practice  of  the 
speaker. 

Curran's  defect  in  enunciation  (at  school  he  went  by  the 


138  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

cognomen  of  '  Stuttering  Jack  Curran ')  he  corrected  by  a 
regular  system  of  daily  reading  aloud,  slowly,  and  with 
strict  regard  to  pronunciation.  His  person  was  short,  and 
his  appearance  ungraceful  and  without  dignity.  To  over- 
come these  disadvantages,  he  recited  and  studied  his 
postures  before  a  mirror,  and  adopted  a  method  of  gesticu- 
lation suited  to  his  appearance.  Besides  a  constant  attend- 
ance at  the  debating  clubs,  he  accustomed  himself  to 
extemporaneous  eloquence  in  private,  by  proposing  cases 
to  himself,  which  he  debated  with  the  same  care  as  if  he 
had  been  addressing  a  jury.  It  was  thus  the  great  advocate 
won  his  self-possession  and  power. 

Professor  de  Morgan's  rule  was,  when  he  wanted  a  pupil 
to  work  well  seven  places  of  decimals,  to  practise  him  in 
working  fifteen.  When  Malibran  was  introduced  to 
Rossini,  as  a  girl  of  fourteen,  by  her  father,  Garcia,  she 
having  sung  a  cavatina,  the  grand  maestro  said :  '  Practise, 
mademoiselle,  and  you  must  inevitably  rise  to  the  highest 
point  of  your  profession.' 

Mr  Vera  Foster,  an  authority  on  copy-book  art,  remarks 
that  '  the  grand  secret  in  teaching  writing  is  to  bestow 
much  attention  upon  a  little  variety.  The  necessity  of  a 
continued  repetition  of  the  same  exercise  till  it  can  be 
executed  with  correctness,  cannot  be  too  strongly  insisted 
on.  But,  as  this  reiteration  is  tedious  for  an  age  so  fond 
of  novelty  as  that  of  childhood,  we  should  not  keep  too  close 
to  the  maxim,  and  by  a  judicious  intermixture  of  a  few 
slightly  differing  forms,  contrive  to  fix  attention  and  to 
insure  repetition.'  '  The  method  of  teaching  anything  to 
children,'  says  Locke,  'is  by  repeated  practice,  and  the* 
same  action  done  over  and  over  again  until  they  have  got 
the  habit  of  doing  it  well,  a  method  that  has  so  many 
advantages,  which  ever  way  we  come  to  consider  it,  that  I 
wonder  how  it  could  possibly  be  so  much  neglected  ; '  but  it 
is  better  for  children  when  there  is  variety  in  it  as  Pestalozzi 
proved.     This  rule  of  repetition  is  also  true  in  elocution,  for 


SIGNS   OF   MASTERY  139 

on  the  verge  of  a  new  art  men  themselves  are  distrustful  of 
their  own  powers. 

Mastery  in  any  art  can  only  come  by  practice.  When 
Demosthenes  was  asked  what  was  the  secret  of  success  on 
the  platform,  he  is  said  to  have  answered :  '  Action,  action, 
action.'  But  action  gives  no  power,  and  Dr  Clair  J. 
Grece  must  be  right  when  contending  that  the  answer  of 
the  great  orator  should  be  translated :  '  Practice,  practice, 
practice,'  for  there  skill  comes  in.  A  man  who  wishes 
to  speak  well  at  a  moment's  notice  should  speak  every 
night  if  he  has  an  opportunity.  Preachers  and  barristers 
speak  better  at  will  than  other  persons. 

In  speaking,  as  one  writer  has  observed,  it  has  often  been 
a  matter  of  curious  consideration,  that  a  person  will  explain 
his  views  to  a  single  individual  in  such  terms  as  to  force 
conviction  in  many  instances,  and  where  he  fails  the  exposi- 
tion would  be  just  such  a  one  as  would  please  an  audience. 
At  the  same  time  it  is  notorious  that  what  will  not  convince 
one  or  two  will  be  effective  on  many  persons;  yet  when 
he  who  can  succeed  in  the  more  difficult  task  with  one 
or  tv70,  when  he  comes  before  an  audience  he  is  abashed, 
and  cannot  utter  two  consecutive  sentences  with  propriety, 
energy  or  sense.  Nevertheless,  this  incapacity  will  vanish 
at  once  under  a  sense  of  duty.  Paul  says  perfect  love 
casteth  out  fear ;  so  does  a  sense  of  duty  in  speaking. 
But  where  the  motive  is  not  an  incentive,  there  is  no 
remedy  for  confusion  of  mind  before  an  audience  save 
practice  and  deliberation;  practice  gives  confidence,  and 
deliberation  gives  capacity  a  chance  of  manifesting  itself 
— provided  the  assembly  is  not  too  large  for  the  com- 
pass of  the  speaker's  voice.  No  man  speaks  with  confi- 
dence who  is  not  sure  that  he  is  heard. 

Whewell  held  that  we  are  never  master  of  anything  till 
we  do  it  both  well  and  unconsciously.  But  there  is  no  test 
of  proficiency  so  instructive  as  that  put  by  George  Sand 
into   the   mouth   of  Porpora,   in   h-'-r   novel   of    Cotisuelo. 


140  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

When  Consuelo,  on  the  occasion  of  a  trial  performance, 
manifests  some  apprehension  as  to  the  result,  Porpora 
reminds  her  that  if  there  is  room  in  her  mind  for  misgiving 
as  to  the  judgment  of  others,  it  is  a  proof  that  she  is  not 
filled  with  the  true  love  of  art,  which  would  so  absorb  her 
whole  thoughts  as  to  leave  her  insensible  to  the  opinion  of 
others,  and  if  she  distrusted  her  own  powers,  it  was  plain 
they  were  not  yet  matured  powers,  else  they  could  not  play 
her  false. 

Mastery  is  manifest  when  we  have  no  misgiving  as  to  the 
trial  of  our  attainments ;  we  are  then  rather  anxious  for 
the  opportunity  and  confident  as  to  the  result.  In  George 
Eliot's  Deronda  there  is  the  little  Jewess  who  sings  for  the 
first  time  undismayed  before  a  critical  assembly  met  to 
judge  her  capacity.  On  being  asked  why  she  was  so  un- 
apprehensive, she  answered  to  this  effect,  *  Because  I  knew 
what  I  could  do,  and  because  the  audience,  being  well- 
informed,  knew  what  I  was  doing,  knew  the  difficulties  I 
had  overcome,  and  could  appreciate  what  I  did.  I  am 
never  afraid  of  singing  before  those  who  know.' 

In  the  first  Lord  Lytton's  day  there  was  a  fashionable 
figure  in  society  whom  everybody  regarded  as  a  '  superior 
person.'  Chancing  next  day  to  call  on  Lord  Durham, 
Lytton  said,  '  I  spent  six  mortal  hours  with  Lord  Spraggles ' 
(the  superior  person),  'and  I  don't  think  there  is  much 
in  him.'  'Good  heavens!'  exclaimed  Lord  Durham, 
'how  did  you  find  that  out?  Is  it  possible  he  could 
have — talked  ? '  The  superior  person  had  mastered  no- 
thing, and  when  he  spoke  it  was  apparent. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY 

A  GREAT  oration  has  a  great  subject  stated  in  a  great  way  ; 
it  deals  with  large  ideas  in  a  large  manner.  Each  orator  of 
mark  may  move  in  a  different  orbit,  but  he  is  luminous  in  it, 
and  shines  by  a  light  which  is  his  own.  Mr  Cobden  com- 
manded attention  by  force  of  argument  based  on  unnoticed 
facts.  Mr  Bright  was  volcanic,  and  suggested  to  landlords 
the  danger  of  allowing  explosive  materials  to  accumulate 
under  them.  Mr  Disraeli  flashed  with  epigram  and  satire. 
Mr  Gladstone  is  circumambient,  compelling  conviction  by 
considerations  drawn  from  a  larger  field  than  any  other 
man  is  able  to  survey.  In  each,  newness  of  insight  and 
force  of  statement  are  the  qualities  by  which  concurrence 
was  won. 

No  one  in  the  House  of  Commons  could  ever  tell 
whether  Disraeli  had  sincerity — the  key  of  all  influence  in 
oratory.  Certainly  he  never  gave  anyone  the  impression 
that  he  had  it.  He  charmed,  he  intimidated,  but  never 
convinced  adversaries.  As  a  clever  writer  in  the  Fort- 
nightly said :  '  You  feel  that  he  has  come  from  another 
world,  and  that  he  must  be  judged  by  the  law  of  his 
domicile.'  In  one  thing  he  was  human  ;  he  was,  as  Justin 
M'Carthy  has  said,  'master  of  the  art  of  epithets.'  In 
destroying  any  who  stood  in  the  way  of  the  ascendency 
of  himself,  he  had  real  passion.  Had  he  had  it  in  public 
affairs,  he  had  moved  the  heart  of  the  nation,  and  kept  a 

141 


142  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

lasting  place  there.  What  is  it  that  wins  for  the  orator 
public  affection?  It  is  the  burning  word  of  passion.  It 
knows  no  high,  no  low,  no  rich,  no  poor,  no  citizen,  no 
alien,  no  foreigner,  no  class,  no  colour.  Savage  and 
civilised,  learned  and  illiterate  (the  accidents  of  condition) 
sink  into  insignificance  when  man  speaks  to  humanity. 
The  orator  penetrates  to  the  heart  of  the  race.  It  was 
said  of  Mr  Cowen  in  Parliament  that  he  had  the  great 
qualities  rare  among  orators,  '  fire,  colour  and  imagination.' 
He  had  also  conviction,  which  alone  wins  adherents,  or 
retains  them  when  won. 

John  Arthur  Roebuck,  whose  own  oratory  in  its  coherence 
and  cogency  more   resembled   that  of  Demosthenes  than 
any  other  orator  of  his  day,   says,   in  his  History  of  the 
Whig  Ministry  of  iS^o  : — 

'  The  style  of  Lord  Brougham,  though  vigorous  and  some- 
times happy,  was  too  often  diffuse,  loose  and  cumbrous, 
and  always  wanting  in  that  exquisite  accuracy,  simplicity, 
and  constantly  equal  and  sustained  force,  of  his  more  sedate 
and  self-collected  antagonist.  Looking  back,  however,  and 
calmly  weighing  the  merits  of  these  celebrated  efforts  of 
these  the  two  most  distinguished  orators  of  that  day  (Lynd- 
hurst  and  Brougham),  we  cannot,  I  think,  fail  to  feel  that 
although  in  Lord  Lyndhurst's  speech  there  was  nothing 
superfluous — that  all  was  severity — and,  if  I  may  use  the 
expression,  serenely  great — yet  that  in  the  higher,  I  ought 
to  say  the  highest  excellence  of  impassioned  reasoning,  his 
rival  (Lord  Brougham)  was  eminently  superior.  The  cold 
sagacity  of  Lord  Lyndhurst  shines  steadily  throughout  the 
whole  of  his  discourse;  l>ut  we  feel  no  enthtisiasm — we  are 
not  totichcd  by  any  appeal  to  a  getierous  sentiment — we  never 
appear  to  ourselves  exalted  by  being  called  upon  to  share  in 
and  sympathise  with  any  large  and  liberal  policy.  The 
speech  of  Lord  Brougham  produces  effects  of  a  very 
different  description.  Discursive,  sometimes  even  trivial, 
it  contains  splendid  and  exciting  appeals — w'se  and  gener 


NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY      1 43 

ous  sentiments — cogent,  effective  argument;  and  we  are 
anxious  to  believe  him  right,  because,  while  he  attempts 
to  satisfy  the  understanding,  he  enlists  in  his  favour  the 
emotions  of  his  hearers  by  exhibiting  an  earnest  solicitude 
for  the  well-being  of  his  country  and  his  kind.' 

Lord  Karnes  said  the  '  plainest  man  agitated  with  passion 
affects  us  more  than  the  greatest  speaker  without  it.'  It  is 
the  passion  of  conviction  which  is  meant.  A  man  cannot 
acquire  it  by  will.  The  spur  of  necessity  will  beget  fer- 
vour, and  interest  in  the  welfare  of  others  will  beget  con- 
victions. But  if  a  man  has  no  convictions,  he  may  as  well 
keep  silence,  for  he  never  can  produce  the  highest  effects 
nor  any  effect  honourable  to  him.  Lord  Hartington  was 
too  rich  to  be  in  earnest  about  public  affairs.  He  spoke 
half-asleep,  and  gave  you  the  impression  that  he  thought 
having  to  speak  a  bore,  and  he  often  bored  his  hearers. 
He  had  twelve  famous  or  luxurious  country  seats — a  fresh 
one  every  month  for  a  change.  You  always  heard  these 
seats  in  his  slothful  speeches.  What  an  audience  like,  is 
what  Douglas  Jerrold  called  the  '  flesh  and  blood '  of  a 
speaker's  thought,  and  they  are  not  content  unless  they 
feel  the  strong  bones  of  his  meaning  in  great  passages. 

Great  actors  confess  that  they  take  time  before  stepping 
on  the  stage  to  possess  their  minds  with  the  story,  purport 
and  genius  of  the  play.  Mrs  Siddons  used  to  stand  at  the 
wings  and  listen  to  the  dialogue  going  on,  so  as  to  possess 
herself  of  the  spirit  of  the  piece,  that  when  she  had  to 
appear  she  shared  and  exalted  its  excitement.  Wordsworth 
said  of  Goethe  that  he  was  not  'inevitable  enough.'  Now 
inevitability  is  the  finest  test  of  oratory,  both  as  to  speech 
and  matter.  To  see  that  a  man  can't  help  speaking 
immediately  arrests  attention,  and  if  the  matter  of  the 
speech,  its  ideas  and  expressions,  appear  inevitably  to 
belong  to  the  subject  and  to  be  inseparable  from  it  when 
said,  the  speaker  has  the  fibre  of  the  orator.  Fire,  com- 
pression and  relevance  are  the  elements  of  inevitableness 


144  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

and  inevitableness  in  speech  is  oratory.  Mr  Gladstone  has 
it.  It  has  been  rightly  said  of  him  that  'he  is  the  only 
man  in  Parliament  who  is  an  orator  in  the  proper  sense  of 
the  word — that  is  to  say,  to  whom  oratory  is  his  element, 
natural  to  him  as  air  is  to  a  bird.'  * 

Eloquence  is  the  talent  of  giving  force  to  reason.  Oratory 
compels  action  after  argument  has  made  duty  clear.  Health 
is  a  condition  of  most  human  efforts ;  but  in  oratory  it  is 
essential.  In  the  cold  air  of  a  thin  morning  audience,  mere 
energy  and  mellowness  are  inestimable ;  wisdom  and  learn- 
ing would  be  harsh  and  unwelcome  compared  with  a  sub- 
stantial man,  who  has  radiant  warmth  of  manner.  What 
would  Danton  have  been  without  his  cannon  voice  ?  When 
Mirabeau  spoke,  his  tone  was  like  the  tone  of  destiny, 
falling  on  the  alarmed  ear  like  broken  thunder.  He  seemed 
as  if  moulded  to  be  the  orator  of  nature.  It  was  his  lion 
roar  that  gave  him  his  splendid  place  in  history.  But 
without  the  ideas  behind  it,  the  voice  would  have  been  an 
affront.  Yet  the  ideas  without  the  voice  would  scarcely 
have  made  themselves  legible  on  the  great  surface  of 
obscurity  which  covers  so  many  reputations,  but  upon 
which  Mirabeau's  name  remains  conspicuous.  Bright's 
massive  head,  his  clear  sagacious  glance,  firm  mouth,  his 
organ  tones,  at  once  excited  attention ;  while  his  slowly- 
spoken,  deliberate  words  fell  like  the  large  drops  of  rain 
which  precede  a  thunder-storm. 

Bulk  talking  produces  a  greater  effect  than  Bones  talking. 
A  large  figure  will  have  twice  the  advantage  of  a  small  figure 
when  the  intellectual  power  is  equal  in  both.  Of  course 
health,  nor  stature,  nor  vocal  power  are  to  be  had  at  will, 
but  there  are  qualities  of  mind  which  cultivation  will  make 
capable  of  giving  fame  in  speech,  though  not  oratorical 
fame.  In  personal  appearance,  Hooker  is  described  as  a 
man  of  small  stature  and  stooping  gait.  As  a  preacher  his 
manner  was  grave.  His  eyes  were  always  fixed  on  one 
*  William  Hale  White. 


NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY       I45 

place,  and  he  seemed  to  think  out  his  discourse  as  he 
proceeded.  His  sermons  were  marked  by  brevity  and 
simplicity,  and  were  designed  to  convince  and  persuade 
rather  than  frighten  men  into  goodness.  He  had  a  weak 
voice  and  an  ineffective  manner,  but  the  weight  and  wisdom 
of  his  matter  and  the  fascination  of  his  composition  did 
much  to  counteract  these  disadvantages.  The  arrangement 
of  his  sentences  reveals  a  fine  sense  of  proportion,  and 
such  mastery  of  expression  that  Ruskin  might  have  taken 
him  as  a  model.  It  has  been  finely  said  that  '  the  sweep 
and  ease  of  his  movements  in  the  highest  regions  of 
thought,  give  him  rank  among  the  great  philosophical 
thinkers  and  intellectual  princes  of  all  time.'  The  reader 
will  see  more  to  the  same  effect  in  Mr  Ritson's  artic'e  on 
Hooker.*  It  was  from  his  rare  faculty  of  discerning  what 
was  possible  and  what  was  probable  that  the  author  of 
Ecclesiastical  Policy  was  named  the  'Judicious  Hookc,' 
whose  reputation  has  endured  three  centuries. 

An  orator  has  everything  for  his  purpose  when  he  has 
stature,  voice  and  sense.  Bulk,  however  imposing,  does  not 
conquer  unless  mind  goes  with  it.  A  great  voice  commands 
attention,  but  does  not  keep  it  unless  there  is  quality  in 
the  thing  said.  To  cite  Mr  Bright's  sarcasm  on  one  of 
these  loud-voiced,  idea-less  orators,  'He  speaks  extren  ely 
well,  if  you  do  not  listen  to  what  he  says.'  Shiel  has  left 
a  famous  name,  and  yet  he  had  a  voice  which  squealed  : 
it  was  his  ideas  and  energy  which  saved  him.  Energy  is 
the  soul  of  oratory  j  and  energy  depends  on  health.  Dr 
Samuel  Johnson  said,  'We  can  be  useful  no  longer  than 
we  are  well.'  Of  the  rhetorician  it  may  as  safely  be  said 
that  he  is  effective  no  longer  than  he  is  well.  A  variety  of 
arts  may  be  pursued  in  indifferent  health  ;  feebleness  only 
prolongs  execution ;  in  rhetoric  it  mars  the  whole  work. 
Even  in  the  matter  of  efficient  thinking,  health  is  worth 
attention.  The  senses  being  the  great  inlets  of  knowledge, 
*  Primitive  Methodist  Quarterly  Review,  January  1894. 

K 


146  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

it  is  necessary  that  they  be  kept  in  health.  It  will  be  idle 
to  conceal  from  ourselves  that  the  physical  is  the  father 
of  the  moral  man.  Morals  depend  greatly  upon  tempera- 
ments. The  patience  necessary  for  investigation  cannot  be 
preserved  with  impaired  nerves.  Long-continued  wakeful- 
ness is  capable  of  changing  the  temper  and  mental  dis- 
position of  the  most  placid  nature.  The  wise  orator  will 
as  much  attend  to  the  exercise  which  gives  him  health  as  to 
the  exercise  which  gives  him  skill. 

It  may  not  be  necessary,  because  Carneades  took  copious 
doses  of  hellebore,  as  a  preparative  to  refuting  the  dogmas 
of  the  Stoics,  or  because  Dryden,  when  he  had  a  grand 
design,  took  physic  and  parted  with  blood  —  that  the 
searcher  after  truth  should  take  a  physician's  opinion  ;  yet  it 
will  be  useful  that  some  attention  be  paid  to  the  physiology 
of  the 

intellect,  whose  use 


Depends  so  much  upon  the  gastric  juice. 

Since  oratory  pertains  to  large  subjects,  treated  in  a  large 
manner,  a  stately  manner  of  speaking  about  a  small 
subject  would  be  absurd,  and  bring  oratory  into  disrepute. 
No  one  having  a  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  would  think 
of  speaking  in  a  small  room  to  a  small  audience  as  he 
would  in  a  large  hall  to  a  great  assembly.  Before  a  small 
audience  the  voice  is  lower  and  the  manner  more  subdued. 
Besides,  the  speaker  should  distinguish  subjects.  Some 
need  only  information  to  be  given  about  them ;  others 
need  argument.  Lucidity  and  relevance  are  sufficient  for 
making  informing  statements.  Animation  and  directness 
are  sufficient  for  argument.  Oratory  and  stately  language, 
passion  and  decision  of  purpose,  pertain  alone  to  issues 
which  have  pathos  and  tragedy  in  them.  There  are  more 
tragical  subjects  in  the  social  life  of  the  day  than  many 
suppose.  Preventible  loss  of  life  at  sea,  in  mines,  ne- 
glect of  sanitary  precautions,   poisonous   trades,   dwellings 


NATURE   AND   CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY     147 

which  have  death  in  them,  as  well  as  the  issues  of  politics, 
have  materials  of  oratory  in  them.  Discrimination  is  needed 
in  selecting  the  topics  of  oratory,  and  foresight  in  making  it 
plain  to  the  hearer  that  the  issue  before  him  has  elements 
of  danger  to  him  in  its  neglect. 

The  subject  treated  in  these  chapters  is  the  art  of  per- 
suading the  minds  of  men  by  oratory,  argument  or  state- 
ment. Some  may  never  excel  in  oratory,  others  do  not 
excel  when  they  might.  Description  is  almost  as  difficult 
as  an  oration.  Mr  Bright  acquired  nearly  as  much  fame 
by  his  descriptive  as  by  his  oratorical  power.  To  this  day 
people  remember  famous  passages  in  which  he  described 
the  effect  of  the  Crimean  War.  Colonel  Boyle  was  then 
member  for  Frome,  and  Colonel  Blair  member  for  a  Con- 
servative constituency.  Mr  Bright,  with  the  slightest  touches, 
and  with  not  less  eloquent  gestures  towards  the  empty  seats, 
asked,  Where  was  Colonel  Boyle  ?  and  answered,  '  He  has 
found  a  grave  in  the  stormy  Euxine,  his  wife  is  a  widow, 
his  children  orphans.'  'Who  is  there,'  he  continued,  'that 
does  not  recollect  the  frank,  courageous  and  manly  counten- 
ance of  Colonel  Blair?  I  doubt  whether  there  were  any 
men  on  either  side  of  the  House  who  were  more  capable 
of  fixing  the  goodwill  and  affection  of  those  with  whom 
they  were  associated.  Well,  but  the  place  that  knew  him 
shall  know  him  no  more  for  ever.' 

Upon  such  instances  the  Daily  News  remarked  —  They 
are  not  famous  passages  from  the  speeches  of  Mr  Bright, 
but  they  illustrate  with  great  force  a  peculiar  characteristic 
of  his  oratory,  and  one  which  has  much  to  do  with  estab- 
lishing its  power.  It  is  a  very  simple  gift  to  describe,  and 
it  is  nearly  as  rare  as  it  is  simple.' 

One  object  of  these  pages  is  to  promote  the  cultivation 
of  the  art  of  clear,  relevant  statement,  without  pretentious- 
ness, yet  at  the  same  time  with  decision.  The  student, 
aware  of  the  nature  and  conditions  of  oratory,  can,  when 
fitting  occasion  occurs,  employ  that  higher  art.     One  of  his 


148  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

biographers,  I  think  it  is  the  Rev.  Mr  Wright,  says :  *  One 
characteristic  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  strikes  the  reader. 
Confident  in  his  own  capacity,  he  thinks,  decides  and  acts 
while  other  men  are  hesitating  and  asking  advice.  He  is 
evidently  conscious  that  decision  and  promptitude,  even 
though  sometimes  a  man  may  err  for  want  of  due  delibera- 
tion, will,  in  the  long  run,  more  often  conduct  to  success 
than  a  slow  judgment  that  comes  too  late.'  Innumerable 
people  will  strike  out  a  course,  pursue  it,  while  all  goes  well, 
but  the  temper  of  greatness  places  its  life  on  the  hazard  of 
a  well-chosen  plan,  counts  upon  failures  and  defeats,  but 
relies  on  the  '  long  run '  of  persistency  for  success. 

In  this  country,  where  we  have  the  ballot,  a  free  press,  a 
free  platform,  and  a  free  parliament,  violence  is  what  Talley- 
rand called  'a  blunder  which  is  worse  than  a  crime' — his 
meaning  being,  I  suppose,  the  statesman  can  guard  against 
a  criminal  easier  than  against  a  fool.     You  know  what  the 
vicious  will  be  at,  but  you  never  know  what  a  fool  will  do. 
A  people  with  the  four  great  instruments  of  freedom  above 
named,  who   cannot   obtain   public   improvement  without 
disorder,  do  not  know  their  business.     The  great  power  in 
their  hands  is  speech.     To  use  a  thought  of  Shakespeare, 
every  speaker,  by  tongue  or  pen,  in  his  own  hand  bears  the 
means  to  cancel  his  captivity — if  he  be  captive  or  wronged. 
The  art  of  expression  by  argument  or  oratory  is  a  great 
and  invincible  instrument.     Orators  in  Parliament  are  esti- 
mated mainly  by  wealth  and  weight,  or  by  relevant  and  new 
knowledge.     Wealth,  as  a  rule,  has  a  large  following — weight 
is  measured  by  position,  because  position  means  influence, 
and  influence  means  character  of  a  determinate  kind.     Mr 
Justin  M'Carthy,  in  one  of  his  admirable  lectures  on  the 
House  of  Commons,  says :  '  Once  let  a  man  make  it  clear 
that  he  rose  because  he   had  something  to  say,  and  not 
because  he  had  to  say  something,  the  House  would  soon 
give  him  a  hearing.'     It  was  long  said  and  believed  that 
the  workman  in  Parliament  would  be  useless,  and  be  dis- 


NATURE   AND   CONDITIONS   OF   ORATORY      I49 

regarded.     This  objection  was  urged  mainly  by  those  who 
did  not  wish  to  see  him  there.     There  always  are  people 
who,    having   what    they    want,    think    that    sufficient    for 
others.     We  have  had  in  this  country  politicans  who,  like 
Bismarck,  make  a  hole  through  which  they  can  crawl  to 
power,  but  stop  it  up  as  soon  as  they  are  through  it ;  or,  like 
Lassalle,  who,  having  mounted,  would  kick  down  the  ladder 
— it  not  being  desirable  that  others  should  get  up  it;  or, 
like  Louis  Napoleon,  shoot  those  who  got  upon  it.     It  was 
honestly  thought  by  many  in  this  country  that  workmen 
must  prove  ineffective  in  Parliament.     But  this  misgiving 
has  been  dissipated.     Mr  Burt  has  an  easy  force  in  speak- 
ing, and  an  accuracy  of  expression,  which  classical  training 
does  not  always  impart,  but  which  often  comes  to  a  man 
from  good  reading  and  an  ear  attentive  to  idiomatic  terms 
in  the  speech  of  others.     Book-learning  has  nearly  obliter- 
ated in  men's  minds  the  sense  of  that  knowledge  without 
books,  which  experience  gives  to  a  man  of  natural  powers, 
observant  eyes  and  original  understanding.     This  kind  of 
knowledge  is  so  rare  that  it  always  makes  a  strong  impression 
in  the  House  of  Commons.     Parliament  consists  of  a  com- 
pany of  gentlemen  too  brave  to  be  intimidated;  and  con- 
tains so  many  members  of  great  pride  and  great  powers 
that  it  cannot  be  looked  down  upon ;  it  simply  disregards 
all  who  treat  it  with  contempt  or  conceit.    But  that  assembly 
has  to  deal  with  subjects  so  many  and  so  important  that  no 
member  can  pretend  to  know  everything,  and,   therefore, 
the  House  will  listen  with  respectful  and  greedy  ears  to  any 
member  who  can  give  it  necessary  information.     And  there- 
fore when  any  member  addresses  it  with  relevance,  with 
unpretendingness  and  modesty,  yet  with  that  clearness  and 
directness,  which  is  possible  only  when  a  man  knows  that 
he  knows,  the  House  of  Commons  respects  him,  listens  to 
him,  from  the  Premier  to  the  last  member  below  the  gang- 
way, and  count  him  as  a  real  addition  to  the  collective 
knowledge  of  the  House. 


150  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

It  was  predicted  that  \Yorking  men  in  Parliament  would 
be  foolish  or  bumptious,  timid  or  leadable.  They  proved 
to  be  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  but  independent 
without  being  impracticable,  rightly  regarding  labour  as  one 
of  the  dignities  of  an  honest  state,  and  standing  up  for  it 
with  as  much  pride  as  they  who  represent  rank  or  land. 
Before  their  day  a  young  clerk  rose  to  fame  in  England, 
America  and  India  by  oratory — a  power  which  he  owed 
to  himself  alone,  and  which  was  attained  under  circum- 
stances entirely  against  him.  George  Thompson  was  an 
anti-slavery  reformer,  an  Indian  reformer,  a  free  trader, 
a  political  reformer,  and  a  foremost  man  in  all.  He 
had  not  only  the  courage  of  his  opinions,  he  had  that 
other  courage  which  did  not  shrink  before  Boston  mobs 
organised  to  lynch  him  in  America  —  real  mobs,  who 
understood  their  business,  and  who  had  done  that  kind 
of  thing  before.  Learning  eloquence,  or  discovering  that 
the  gift  of  it  was  natural  to  him,  from  a  Clerkenwell  coffee- 
house debating  society  in  Marylebone,  he  emerged  from 
behind  a  desk,  and  became  one  of  the  first  advocates 
in  Europe  in  the  days  of  Berryer,  O'Connell  and  Brougham. 
They  were  the  compeers  with  whom  he  was  compared. 
I  heard  Lord  Brougham  say,  on  introducing  him  to  an 
Exeter  Hall  audience,  forty  years  ago,  that  '  George 
Thompson  was  the  most  persuasive  speaker  to  whom 
he  had  ever  listened.'  I  have  heard  him  at  the  close 
of  his  speaking  days  address  a  meeting,  in  the  National 
Hall,  Holborn,  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  when  half 
of  the  audience  had  gone  home  and  only  a  wearied 
section  was  left,  who  were  jaded,  unexpectant,  and  long- 
ing for  the  vacation  of  the  chair.  Thompson  arrested 
them,  inspired  them,  set  them  aflame,  caps  and  hats 
rose  in  the  air,  and  for  years  after  the  tale  of  the  wonderful 
speech  of  that  night  was  told  in  workshops  and  committee 
meetings.  Paralysis  came  upon  him  many  years  before 
his  death.     Oft  when  travelling  I  met  him — his  fine  powers 


NATURE   AND   CONDITIONS   OF   ORATORY       151 

of  speech  were  arrested  then.  I  consoled  hmi  by  telling  him 
that  his  splendid  orations  would  live  in  men's  memories ;  and 
I  write  these  words  in  proof  of  it.  He  had  his  faults — as  a 
few  other  persons  I  have  known  have ;  but  he  had  the  grand 
fervour  of  the  orator.  He  spoke  as  Malibran  sang — it  was 
the  natural  expression  of  his  nature.  There  was  the  accent 
of  honesty  and  sincerity  in  his  voice  which  neither  O'Connell 
nor  Brougham  had  in  like  degree.  In  that  respect  there  was 
the  difference  between  Thompson  and  them  as  there  was  in  a 
greater  degree  between  Gladstone  and  Beaconsfield.  There 
was  a  generation  of  slaves  who  would  have  died  for  Thomp- 
son. What  a  splendid  memory  is  that  for  a  deathbed !  He 
did  not  exercise  influence  in  Parliament  like  that  which  he 
did  on  the  platform,  but  that  was  because  he  did  not  give  his 
mind  to  that  distinct  kind  of  work.  Had  he  sought  occa- 
sions, he  could  have  won  distinction  there.  He  had  the 
orator's  power  of  marshalling  facts ;  and  had  he  relinquished 
what  he  thought  the  wider  sphere  of  influence  in  America,  in 
India,  and  the  British  platform,  and  laid  in  wait  for  parlia- 
mentary occasions,  he  had  long  been  member  for  the  Tower 
Hamlets,  or  elsewhere,  at  will.  People  have  talked  of  Thomp- 
son as  a  great  outdoor  orator  who  failed  in  the  House.  He 
did  not  fail — he  did  not  seek  to  succeed  there.  That  is  the 
explanation. 

There  was  Serjeant  Parry,  whom  I  well  knew.  He  rose 
from  the  ranks.  As  a  Chartist  orator  he  had  fervour,  readi- 
ness of  speech,  and  a  loud  voice,  but  his  style  was  loose, 
wordy  and  gaseous.  We  all  thought  that  if  he  went  to 
Parliament  as  he  wished — and  would  have  done  had  he 
lived — he  would  surely  fail  there.  Seeking  distinction  at 
the  bar,  he  studied  the  nature  and  conditions  of  oratory 
and  became  a  new  man,  the  delight  of  clients  and  the 
admiration  of  courts.  I  never  knew  such  a  transformation 
on  the  platform.  His  style  became  compact,  vigorous  and 
exact.  His  sentences,  formerly  gaseous,  were  solid  as  a 
cannon  ball,  and  as  he  had  ideas,  a  good  presence,  and  a 


152  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Strong  voice,  he  would  have  soon  won  a  high  place  in  the 
House  of  Commons. 

Labour  members  in  Parliament  have  to  be  counted  with 
by  every  Government.  Besides  Mr  Burt,  Mr  Broadhurst, 
Mr  Howell,  Mr  John  Burns,  Mr  Pickard,  Mr  J.  H.  Wilson 
— others  whom  we  have  known  on  co-operative  platforms, 
have  abundantly  vindicated  the  right  of  labour  to  personal 
representation. 

A  word  ought  to  be  said  of  the  influence  of  pleasantry 
of  mind  in  the  orator.  There  are  buffoons  always  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  the  other  House  also,  like  the  late 
De  Morny,  the  fellow-conspirator  with  Louis  Napoleon,  who 
on  one  occasion  had  to  go  into  mourning.  For  this  purpose 
he  required  a  new  hat ;  but  regarding  himself  as  a  man  of 
fashion,  he  told  his  hatter  that  he  wanted  it  to  be  a  mourn- 
ing hat,  but  with  'a  little  gaiety  in  the  brim.'  There  are 
wits  in  Parliament  whose  gaiety  is  in  the  brim,  not  in  the 
brain.  English  humour  is  hearty  and  unaffected;  Irish, 
brisk  as  mercury,  setting  propriety  at  defiance,  but  always 
bright  with  imagination.  Scotch  humour  is  sly,  grave  and 
caustic.  But  every  nation  is  capable  of  delight  when  their 
great  speakers  or  authors  are  capable  of  vindicating  serious 
principle  with  relevant  wit  or  humour. 

When  Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson  entered  Parliament,  I  was  not 
aware  that  he  belonged  to  a  family  in  which  humour  was 
hereditary,  and  as  it  was  known  that  he  would  represent  the 
temperance  cause,  I  ventured,  needlessly,  to  suggest  to  him, 
that  that  cause  would  be  much  advanced  by  brightness  and 
lightness  of  treatment.  Those  who  had  preceded  him  had 
manifested  an  oppressive  heaviness :  they  made  dead  pop 
speeches,  which  infected  the  house  with  flatness.  Their 
arguments  were  as  tasteless  as  raw  potatoes.  The  House 
soon  found  that,  with  Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson,  humour  was  a 
natural  endowment.  He  not  only  made  temperance  respect- 
able, he  made  it  entertaining,  yet  always  keeping  before  the 
House  the  gravity  of  its  issues.     During  the  years  when  I 


NATURE   AND   CONDITIONS  OF   ORATORY      1 53 

was  much  at  the  House  of  Commons,  I  studied  the  wits  of 
Parliament,  and  observed  that  one  thing  was  ahvays  true  of 
Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson — he  never  jested  with  a  principle,  and  he 
never  gave  us  a  jest  instead  of  a  principle.  Sir  Wilfrid 
was  not  a  jester,  and  was  more  than  a  wit.  His  wit  was 
earnestness  for  the  right,  made  radiant  by  the  light  of  humour. 
Some  speakers  tell  us  that  truth  lies  at  the  bottom  of  a  well, 
and  they  almost  drown  us  in  getting  at  it.  Sir  Wilfrid 
Lawson  always  took  us  over  land  to  it,  and  through  a  path 
so  bright  and  pleasant  that  we  were  glad  in  our  hearts  to 
make  the  journey. 

Years  ago  there  was  a  Mr  Bernal,  Chairman  of  Committees 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  who  said  that  '  law  was  raorahty 
shaped  by  Act  of  Parliament.'  What  nobler  occupation 
than  that  of  speakers  and  orators  whose  business  it  is  to 
c  jnvert  morality  into  law  ? 

He  who  gives  directions  for  the  attainment  of  oratory 
ii  supposed,  if  a  public  speaker,  to  be  capable  of  illustrat- 
iig  his  own  precepts.  He  may  be  thought  to  challenge 
criticism,  and  his  own  performances  may  be  condemned 
by  a  reference  to  his  own  precepts ;  or,  on  the  other  hand, 
his  precepts  may  be  undervalued  through  his  own  failures 
in  their  application.  Should  this  take  place  in  the  present 
instance,  I  have  only  to  urge,  with  Horace,  in  his  Arf  of 
Poetry,  that  a  whetstone,  though  itself  incapable  of  cutting, 
is  yet  useful  in  sharpening  steel.  No  system  of  instruction 
will  completely  equalise  natural  powers,  and  yet  it  may  be  of 
service  towards  their  improvement.  The  youthful  Achilles 
acquired  skill  in  hurling  the  javelin  under  the  instruction 
of  Chiron,  though  the  master  could  not  compete  with  the 
pupil  in  vigour  of  arm. 

But  there  is  little  danger  in  these  days  of  serious  judg- 
ment being  passed  upon  the  indifferent  exemplar  of  the 
rhetorical  maxims  he  lays  down.  Our  orators  escape  as 
our  statues  do.  Good  public  monuments  are  so  scarce 
that  the  people  are  ill  judges  of  art,  and  great  speakers  too 


154  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

seldom  arise  for  the  people  to  be  good  judges  of  oratory. 
England  has  not  reached  the  age  of  excellence  in  this 
respect.  Great  events  can  excite  it,  but  only  a  national 
refinement,  including  opulence,  and  a  liberal  philosophy, 
can  sustain  it.  Oratory  ordinarily  requires  the  union  of 
intellect,  leisure  and  health,  discipline  of  thought,  cal- 
culated expression  and  public  spirit. 

The  speeches  of  great  leaders  are  to  hearers  like  walking 
along  a  pier,  out  far  into  the  sea.  Away  from  the  air  made 
dull  and  murky  by  mediocrity,  the  fresh  breezes  of  reason 
like  those  of  the  ocean,  blow  around  the  great  questions 
of  the  day ;  everyone  sees  clearly  the  issue,  and  is  braced 
to  aid  it. 

Americans  are  a  quick  people,  ready  to  project  them- 
selves into  the  second  thing  before  they  have  done  with 
the  first;  yet  they  will  sit  quietly  under  speeches,  the 
length  of  which  would  shorten  the  lives  of  Englishmen. 
The  French,  who  are  yet  brighter  and  more  alert-minded, 
will  at  times  keep  their  seats  in  patience  under  papers  read 
of  seemingly  endless  length — and  continue  to  live.  Lord 
Bacon  says  that  'short  speeches  are  like  darts  which 
fly  about  and  are  thought  to  proceed  from  some  secret 
intention,  whereas  long  discourses  are  flat  and  not  to  be 
noted.'  French  orators  seem  to  place  their  trust  in  long 
orations.  It  is  wonderful  how  so  mercurial  a  people  can 
sit  during  a  protracted  address,  when  no  national  interest 
makes  men  curious,  and  no  enterprise  of  thought  inspires 
patience. 

At  the  first  Co-operative  Congress  in  France  I  had  oppor- 
tunity of  observing  characteristics  of  Parisian  speaking. 
The  action  of  the  French  orators  was  superb.  When  they 
sought  the  chairman's  attention  their  arms  were  darted 
forward  and  upward,  suddenly,  as  far  as  arms  could  go. 
It  was  as  though  they  would  reach  the  chairman  with  them. 
Then  one  would  leave  his  seat,  and  walk  quietly  and  slowly 
down  the  meeting,  soliloquising  like  Hamlet  as  he  walked. 


NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY      1 55 

That  was  part  of  his  speech.     Then  facing  the  audience, 
the  quiet  stroller  to  the  platform  delivered  entire  volleys 
of  sentences  as  though  they  were  ejected  from  a  culverin. 
All  at  once  the  explosion  stopped,  and  the  speaker  walked 
slowly  back   and  sat  down  in  his  seat,  just  as  though  he 
had  never  left  it.     Another  orator  had  risen  to  answer  him, 
when  you  saw  that  he  who  had  walked  to  his  seat  so  placidly 
had  thrown  back  his  ears  like  a  hare,  and  had  caught  every 
word  said  behind  him  ;  and  when  you  heard  another  decided 
volley  of  words,  you  found  that  it  was  your  placid-walking 
speaker,  who  had  found  his  way  back  to  the  platform,  and 
was  answering   the  delegate  who   had   differed   from  him. 
When  a  speaker  was  concluding,  his  gestures  were  often  the 
wonder   of  the  night  to  me.     Every  motion  of  emphasis, 
earnestness,  decision,  prediction,  malediction,  or   benedic- 
tion, with  which  some  ended,  were  all  expressed  by  miracul- 
ous and  rapid  motions  of  the  arms  above,  below,  around, 
in  broad  wave  or  graceful  whirling  curve,  until  arms  and 
body  seemed  to  disappear  in  the  air,  and  the  head  of  the 
orator  alone   remained   recognisable.     In   debates,  a  man 
in  the  gallery,  or  back  of  the  meeting,  would  stroll  down, 
or  pass  along  the  gangway,  as  though  he  was  leaving  the 
hall,  but  does  not.     He  continues  walking  aimlessly,  and 
when  you  think  he   has   gone   out,  he  turns  up  near  the 
president.     He  watches   anyone   who   is   speaking,   as   an 
Indian  looks  out  from  the  bush  when  he  descries  an  enemy 
coming  over  the  border  of  the  plain.     The  moment  the 
speech  ceases,  the  man  near  the  president  projects  himself 
into  prominence  and  pours  out  a  volley  of  words  as  incessant 
and   prolonged  as  the  firing  of  artillery.     When  it  occurs 
to  the  new  orator  to  return  to  his  seat,  he  begins  threading 
his  way  to   the   back   of  the  meeting   or   gallery,  whence 
he  came,  sometimes   talking  all   along   the  pathway.     No 
Englishman's   arm   can   make   the    easy,   graceful,   pliable 
curves  a   Frenchman   knows   how  to  produce.     In   every 
way  in  which  the  arm  can  cleave  the  air  or  caress  it — in 


156  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

whatever  manner  finger  can  point,  or  open  palm,  or  dis- 
played hand  can  indicate  emotion,  emphasis,  sentiment 
or  argument  —  the  French  orator  is  master  of  that 
expression. 

All  this  shows  how  much  oratory  depends  upon  tempera- 
ment for  gesture  and  delivery.  But  the  elements  of  oratory, 
force  of  argument,  vividness  of  speech,  concentration  anp 
boldness  of  idea,  remain  the  same  in  all  countries  and  all 
time,  though  the  splendour  of  deUvery  varies  with  national 
vivacity  and  grace. 

He  who  has  listened  to  Italian  oratory  in  Bologna  knows 
it  is  not  the  grand  passion  of  impulse,  which  the  French 
display  in  Paris  or  Tours — but  the  superb  passion  of  the 
intellect.  An  Italian  is  speaking — you  cannot  say  '  he  rises ' 
in  his  place.  He  is  so  quick,  you  hear  him  but  do  not  see 
him  rise.  His  movements  are  too  rapid  for  that.  Anon  a 
low,  enchanting  voice  is  heard;  soon  it  becomes  eager, 
resonant,  filling  the  hall  with  mellow,  resilient  tones,  and  all 
the  grace  of  sculpture  in  the  speaker's  gestures.  Another 
appears  with  a  bushy  head  of  dark  hair,  handsome,  well-cut 
features,  and  piqued  beard ;  in  person  slender,  tall  and 
picturesque,  with  a  penetrating  voice  and  miraculous  action. 
His  hair  and  beard  vibrate ;  his  arms  make  every  motion 
known  in  conic  sections ;  his  whole  frame  is  circular  and 
revolving.  With  outstretched  arm  and  forefinger  projected 
— now  pointing  laterally,  now  perpendicularly,  then  to  the 
earth — anon  the  open  palm  is  extended,  entreating,  darting, 
cleaving  vacant  space  as  though  his  purpose  was  to  cut  it 
into  pieces,  the  voice  orotund,  beseeching,  denouncing, 
declaiming.  No  carding  machine,  no  spinning-jenny,  no 
steam  engine  at  high  pressure,  nor  the  most  intricate  action 
invented,  was  eve  capable  of  so  many  motions,  and  such 
continuous  energy.  Next  a  bold,  sonorous  voice  (like 
Gambetta's)  would  thunder  through  the  hall,  when  people 
leaving  returned,  and  others  entering  rush  forward  to  see  who 
has  taken  the  floor,  and  learn  what  the  surging  intensity  of 


NATURE  AND  CONDITIONS  OF  ORATORY   1 57 

tones,  the  polished  energy,  the  controlled  vehemence,  and 
enchanted  tumult  of  applause  all  means.  It  was  Signer 
Luzzatti  who  was  speaking.  Italian  oratory  is  a  musical 
tempest. 

There  is  oratory  in  England  equal  to  that  of  any  nation, 
but  more  attention  is  given  to  its  cultivation  elsewhere  than 
here.  Good  delivery  is  more  common  than  with  us,  and 
there  is  more  freedom  in  gesture  and  tone.  Being  alien  to 
English  taste  to  betray  much  emotion,  we  think  it  unreal  in 
those  to  whom  it  is  natural.  French  speaking  seemed  to 
me  to  have  more  personal  fervour ;  Italian  speaking  more 
intellectual  fervour.  The  French  appear  to  speak  with  the 
force  of  feeling ;  the  Italian  from  the  force  of  conviction, 
who,  in  his  most  dramatic  moods,  maintains  a  certain  dignity 
of  self-possession.  An  Englishman  speaks  as  though  his 
words  had  wings  and  flew  about  in  the  air,  and  at  times 
escape  him  when  he  most  wants  to  catch  them.  An  Italian 
seems  to  carry  his  store  of  words  within  him,  and  delivers 
them  at  will,  in  full,  melodious  tones.  Spontaneity,  however, 
is  the  main  charm  of  spoken  words.  The  orator  will  have 
concentrated  passages  in  his  mind,  but  does  not  think  too 
much  of  them — he  may  have  seen  all  through  his  sentences 
when  he  first  arranged  them  in  his  mind,  but  if  the  conclusion 
has  passed  for  the  moment  from  his  mind — as  was  the  case 
with  Charles  James  Fox — he  invents  a  new  termination  and 
extricates  himself  as  best  he  can.  It  has  been  well  said  '  a 
certain  free  handling  and  disdain  of  literal  exactitude  is  only 
one  grace  the  more  in  speaking,  just  as  it  is  in  sketching. 
It  is  the  human  note.  The  most  effective  speakers  are  often 
those  who  have  the  courage  of  their  verbal  inaccuracies, 
and  who  leave  on  the  minds  of  their  hearers  the  sense  of 
over-mastering  possession  by  the  subject  itself,  that  seems  to 
preclude  all  other  concern.'  This  is  sometimes  the  case ; 
but  the  student  should  not  trust  to  it.  An  orator  trained  to 
accuracy  of  expression  finds  that  it  never  deserts  him,  and 
in  the  very  blaze  of  passion  such  self-possession  comes  to 


158  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

him  that  he  plays  with  every  detail  of  speech,  and  says 
things  with  grace,  qualification  and  illustration  that  never 
occurred  to  him  before,  and  which  he  cannot  often  recall 
after.  At  the  same  time  the  '  free  handling '  commended 
in  this  passage  is  good,  and  gives  the  impression  of 
mastery. 

Mr  William  Hale  White,  who,  like  his  father,  wrote  the 
best  Parliamentary  criticisms  of  his  time,  remarked,  in  a' 
memorable  passage : — 

'  Old  men,  who  know  that  they  have  at  the  best  but  a 
little  breathing  space  before  they  are  no  more  and  are 
forgotten,  may  be  excused  if  their  zeal  for  affairs  diminishes. 
They  may  ask  themselves,  "  What  does  it  matter  to  me  ? " 
But  in  Mr  Gladstone  it  is  wonderful  to  see,  and  admirable 
to  see,  that  men  and  ideas  are  of  more  importance  now  than 
they  were  when  life  was  before  him.  His  enthusiasm  on 
Tuesday  reached  that  pitch  of  abandonment  which  is  usually 
supposed  to  be  characteristic  of  youth,  but  yet  the  centri- 
fugal power  was  never  so  strong  as  to  propel  him  into 
inanity.  Like  the  perfect  orator  he  is,  he  was  always  master 
of  himself,  and  came  again  in  complete  curve.  It  was 
curious  to  see  how  his  passion  improved  his  style  as  he 
went  along.  I  have  often  observed  of  him,  but  never  so 
signally  as  on  this  occasion,  that  he  falls  into  the  most 
idiomatic  English  when  he  gets  thoroughly  warm,  and  that 
the  warmer  he  grows  the  simpler  he  becomes,  so  that  all 
verbiage  and  sesquipedalism  disappear,  and  he  is  as  com- 
pressed and  simple  as  Lord  Bacon.  For  example  :  "  Gentle- 
men will  recollect  how  we  were  fired  with  false  rumours  and 
mutilated  telegrams.  First  of  all,  Russia  had  been  making 
some  secret  agreement.  Nothing  so  much  excited  the 
country  as  the  statement  that  there  were  secret  agreements 
between  Russia  and  Turkey.  //  would  have  been  so  wicked 
0/  Russia,  would  it  not?"^ 

His  hearers  knew  that  the  pigeon  holes  in  our  Foreign 
Office  were  stuffed  with  secret  treaties  we  had  made. 


NATURE   AND   CONDITIONS   OF   ORATORY      1 59 

Let  those  who  think  an  oration  can  be  made  at  will,  with- 
out premeditation  or  practice,  read  the  following  passage 
from  one  of  the  famous  sermons  of  Massillon.  He  had 
explained  how  men  justify  their  conduct  to  their  con- 
sciences because  they  live  as  the  multitude  live,  and  are 
no  worse  than  others  of  their  class  and  station.  Massillon 
then  exclaims  : — 

'  On  this  account  it  is,  my  brethren,  that  I  confine  my- 
self to  you  who  at  present  are  assembled   here ;  I   include 
not  the  rest  of  men,  but  consider  you  as  alone  existing  on 
the  earth.     The  idea  which  occupies  and  frightens  me  is 
this :    I  figure   to   myself  the   present    as   your   last   hour 
and  the  end  of  the  world ;  that  the  heavens  are  going  to 
open  above  your  heads;  our  Saviour,  in  all  His  glory,  to 
api^ear  in   the    midst   of  the   temple ;   and   that   you   are 
only  assembled  here  to  wait  His  coming;   like  trembling 
criminals   on   whom    the   sentence   is   to   be   pronounced, 
either  of  life  eternal  or  of  everlasting  death ;  for  it  is  vain 
to  flatter  yourselves  that  you  shall  die  more  innocent  than 
you  are  at  this  hour.     All  those  desires    of  change   with 
which   you   are   amused   will   continue   to  amuse  you  till 
death  arrives,  the  experience  of  all  ages  proves  it ;  the  only 
difference  you  have  to  expect  will  most   likely  be  only  a 
larger  balance  against  you  than  what  you  would  have  to 
answer   for   at   present;    and   from   what   would   be   your 
destiny   were   you   to   be  judged   this   moment,  you  may 
almost  decide  upon  what  will  take  place  at  your  departure 
from   life.     Now,  I  ask  you  (and  connecting  my  own  lot 
with  yours  I  ask  with  dread),  were  Jesus  Christ  to  appear 
in  this  temple,  in  the  midst  of  this  assembly,  to  judge  us, 
to  make  the   dreadful    separation  betwixt   the   goats   and 
sheep,    do   you   believe   that   the   greatest   number   of  us 
would  be  placed  at  His  right  hand  ?     Do  you  believe  that 
the  number  would  at  least  be  equal  ?     Do  you  believe  there 
would  even  be  found  ten  upright  and  faithful  servants  of 
the  Lord,   when  formerly  five  cities  could  not  furnish  so 


l6o  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

many?  I  ask  you.  You  know  not,  and  I  know  it  not. 
Thou  alone,  O  my  God,  knowest  who  belong  to  Thee. 
But  if  we  know  not  who  belong  to  Him,  at  least  we  know 
that  sinners  do  not.  Now,  who  are  the  just  and  faithful 
assembled  here  at  present?  Titles  and  dignities  avail 
nothing,  you  are  stripped  of  all  these  in  the  presence  of 
your  Saviour.  Who  are  they?  Many  sinners  who  wish 
not  to  be  converted ;  many  more  who  wish,  but  always  put 
it  off;  many  others  who  are  only  converted  in  appearance, 
and  again  fall  back  to  their  former  courses.  In  a  word,  a 
great  number  who  flatter  themselves  they  have  no  occasion 
for  conversion.  This  is  the  party  of  the  reprobate.  Ah ! 
my  brethren,  cut  off  from  this  assembly  these  four  classes 
of  sinners,  for  they  will  be  cut  off  at  the  great  day.  And 
now  appear,  ye  just !  Where  are  ye  ?  O  God,  where  are 
Thy  chosen  ?     And  what  a  portion  remains  to  Thy  share.' 

The  resounding  and  commanding  voice  of  the  preacher 
— his  penetrating  and  unevadable  questions— his  short  clear 
sentences,  which  none  could  misunderstand,  prevented  the 
attention  of  any  hearer  from  being  diverted — his  tones  and 
gestures  of  alarm  (for  the  fearful  picture  he  drew  had  en- 
tered his  own  soul)  overwhelmed  his  hearers  with  dismay 
and  terror.  All  would  resolve  on  amendment,  and  happily 
many  would  persevere  in  it. 

There  is  an  old  Continental  proverb  which  says  :  '  An 
Italian  is  wise  before  he  undertakes  a  thing,  the  German 
while  he  is  doing  it,  and  a  Frenchman  when  it  is  over.' 
In  oratory,  and  in  other  things,  I  could  wish  my  country- 
men to  be  both  Italians  and  German — wise  both  in  con- 
ception and  act. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

ORIGINALITY     IN     ORATORY 

Originality  is  founded  in  nature — an  inexhaustible  field 
in  which  to  find  it.  Genius  is  a  gUmpse  of  nature  denied 
to  others.  Realism  is  truth  and  newness.  There  would  be 
more  originality  than  there  is  if,  instead  of  following  custom 
without  thought,  men  went  to  nature,  the  source  of  al 
surprises.  Edmund  Kean,  who  had  originality  in  him, 
augmented  it  by  art.  One  day  he  saw  Jack  Painter,  the 
prize-fighter,  raise  his  arm  to  strike  when  he  could  no 
longer  rise  from  the  ground.  When  next  Kean  played 
Richard  III.  he  did  that,  and  'brought  down  the  house.' 
When  asked  how  he  came  to  think  of  expressing  in  that 
way  undying  valour,  he  said  Jack  Painter  gave  him  the 
idea  by  what  he  did  when  beaten.  Men  wondered  how 
Massillon,  living  in  a  cloister,  could  know  the  human 
heart  as  he  did.  When  asked  how  he  came  by  such  know- 
ledge, which  exceeded  that  of  other  men,  he  answered  :  '  I 
learned  it  by  studying  myself  Locke  tells  us,  says  Lord 
Byron,  that  '  all  his  knowledge  of  the  human  understanding 
was  derived  from  studying  his  own  mind.'  Emerson,  who 
excelled  in  the  quality,  advised  him  who  would  be  original, 
thus  : — '  Insist  on  yourself — never  imitate.  Your  gift  you  can 
present  every  moment,  with  the  cumulative  force  of  a  whole 
life's  cultivation  ;  but  of  the  adopted  talent  of  another  you 
have  only  an  extemporaneous  half  possession.     The  way  to 

L 


l62  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

speak  and  write  what  shall  not  go  out  of  fashion,  is  to  speak 
and  write  sincerely.  Take  Sidney's  maxim  :  "  Look  in  thy 
heart  and  write."  He  that  writes  to  himself  writes  to  an 
eternal  public' 

Originality  is  reality,  instead  of  stereotype  conventional- 
ism. A  dialogue  between  Bacon  and  Shakespeare  ran  as 
follows  : — 

Bacon  :  He  that  can  make  the  multitude  laugh  and  weep 
as  you  do,  Mr  Shakespeare,  need  not  fear  scholars.  A  head 
naturally  fertile  and  forgetive  is  worth  many  libraries,  in- 
asmuch as  a  tree  is  more  valuable  than  a  basket  of  fruit, 
or  a  good  hawk  better  than  a  bag  full  of  game,  or  the  little 
purse  which  a  fairy  gave  to  Fortunatus  more  inexhaustible 
than  all  the  coffers  in  the  treasury.  More  scholarship 
might  have  sharpened  your  judgment,  but  the  particulars 
whereof  a  character  is  composed  are  better  assembled  by 
force  of  imagination  han  of  judgment.  Although  judg- 
ment perceives  coherences,  it  cannot  summon  up  materials, 
nor  melt  them  into  a  compound  with  the  felicity  which 
belongs  to  imagination  alone. 

Shakespeare ;  My  Lord,  thus  far  I  know,  that  the  first 
glimpse  and  conception  of  a  character  in  my  mind  is  always 
engendered  by  chance  and  accident.  We  shall  suppose, 
for  instance,  that  I  am  sitting  in  a  taproom,  or  standing 
in  a  tennis  court.  The  behaviour  of  someone  fixes  my 
attention.  I  note  his  dress,  the  sound  of  his  voice,  the 
turn  of  his  countenance,  the  drinks  he  calls  for,  his  questions 
and  retorts,  the  fashion  of  his  person,  and,  in  brief,  the 
whole  outgoings  and  incomings  of  the  man.  These  grounds 
of  speculation  being  cherished  and  revolved  in  my  fancy,  it 
becomes  straightway  possessed  with  a  swarm  of  conclusions 
and  beliefs  concerning  the  individual.  In  walking  home  I 
picture  out  to  myself  what  would  be  fitting  for  him  to  say 
or  do  upon  any  given  occasion,  and  these  fantasies,  being 
recalled  at  some  after  period,  when  I  am  writing  a  play, 
shape  themselves  into  divers  manikins,  who   are  not  long 


ORIGINALITY   IN   ORATORY  I63 

of  being  nursed  into  life.     Thus  comes  forth  Shallow  and 
Slender  and  Mercutio  and  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek. 

An  early  commentator  of  Shakespeare's  plays  says  it  was 
watching  a  meat  dealer  sharpening  skewers  that  gave  the 
great  dramatist  the  fine  conception  :  '  There  is  a  Providence 
doth  shape  our  ends,  rough  hew  them  as  we  will.'  Thus 
may  imagination  find  in  the  meanest  things  emblems  of 
the  loftiest. 

In  observation  and  experiment  original  information  has 
its  source.  But  the  conventionalisms  of  society  repress  its 
manifestation.  Lord  Jeffrey  has  depicted  its  influence  on 
young  men  in  a  passage  of  great  instruction.  '  In  a 
refined  and  literary  community,'  says  he,  '  so  many  critics 
are  to  be  satisfied,  so  many  rivals  to  be  encountered,  and 
so  much  division  to  be  hazarded,  that  a  young  man  is 
apt  to  be  deterred  from  so  perilous  an  enterprise,  and  led 
to  seek  distinction  in  some  safer  line  of  exertion.  His 
originality  is  repressed  till  he  sinks  into  a  paltry  copyist, 
or  aims  at  distinction  by  extravagance  and  affectation.  In 
such  a  state  of  society  he  feels  that  mediocrity  has  no 
chance  of  distinction ;  and  what  beginner  can  expect  to  rise 
at  once  into  excellence?  He  imagines  that  mere  good 
sense  will  attract  no  attention,  and  that  the  manner  is  of 
much  more  importance"  than  the  matter  in  a  candidate  for 
public  admiration.  In  his  attention  to  the  manner,  the 
matter  is  apt  to  be  neglected;  and  in  his  solicitude  to 
please  those  who  require  elegance  of  diction,  brilliancy  of 
wit,  or  harmony  of  periods,  he  is  in  some  danger  of  for- 
getting that  strength  of  reason  and  accuracy  of  observation 
by  which  he  first  proposed  to  recommend  himself.  His 
attention,  when  extended  to  so  many  collateral  objects,  is 
no  longer  vigorous  or  collected ;  the  stream,  divided  into 
so  many  channels,  ceases  to  flow  either  deep  or  strong ;  he 
becomes  an  unsuccessful  pretender  to  fine  writing,  and  is 
satisfied  with  the  frivolous  praise  of  elegance  or  vivacity.' 

Young  preachers,  poetical  from  ardour,  and  enthusiastic 


l64  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

from  passion,  will  often  rush  from  libraries  crammed  with 
lore,  with  which  nobody  else  is  familiar,  and  pour  ojut 
before  a  congregation  what  the  speaker  believes  to  be  both 
sublime  and  impressive,  but  which  his  hearers  cannot 
understand.  They  grow  listless  and  restless,  and  he  retires 
overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  failure. 

On  one  occasion  a  young  preacher  of  considerable  pro- 
mise, for  whom  I  had  a  great  friendship,  failed  in  this  way. 
I  sought  to  console  him  by  urging  that  failure  with  one 
of  his  quality  should  be  but  a  stepping-stone  to  success. 
Persons  of  eminence  have  mostly  failed  many  times  before 
they  succeeded.  '  But  why  have  I  not  succeeded  ? '  he 
asked.  '  I  can  never  hope  to  say  better  things  of  my  ov/n 
than  I  have  said  to-night  of  others.'  '  The  cause  of  your 
non-success  is  explicable.  A  young  preacher  who  had 
ascended  the  pulpit  with  great  confidence,  but  who  broke 
down  in  the  middle  of  his  sermon,  was  met  by  Rowland 
Hill  as  he  was  rushing  from  the  pulpit.  "Young  man," 
said  Rowland,  "  had  you  ascended  the  pulpit  in  the  spirit 
in  which  you  descended,  you  v/ould  have  descended  in  the 
spirit  in  which  you  ascended."  Something  of  this  kind  will 
explain  your  case.  At  first,  then,  you  should  address  your 
hearers  as  though  they  were  children,  state  your  arguments 
as  though  they  were  learners,  and  then  assume  them  to 
be  well-informed  men.  On  the  threshold  of  a  new  subject 
most  men  are  as  children — during  its  unfoldment  they  are 
learners ;  only  when  the  subject  is  mastered  are  they  men 
with  manhood's  understanding.'  To  forget  this  is  to  be 
open  to  the  sarcasm  of  Swift,  who,  when  Burnet  said, 
speaking  of  the  Scotch  preachers  in  the  time  of  the  civil 
war,  *The  crowds  were  far  beyond  the  capacity  of  their 
churches,  or  the  reach  of  their  voices,'  Swift  added,  'And 
the  preaching  beyond  the  capacity  of  the  crowd.  I  believe 
the  church  had  as  much  capacity  as  the  minister.' 

Mr  Justin  M'Carthy,  in  his  History  of  Our  Ozvn  Times, 
says  that  'Cardinal   Newman,  like  Mill,  has  the  rare    art 


ORIGINALITY   IN   ORATORY  165 

which  dissolves  all  the  difficulties  of  the  most  abstruse  or 
perplexed  subject,  and  shows  it  bare  and  clear  even  to  the 
least  subtle  of  readers.  His  words  dispel  mists.  There  are 
many  passages  of  his  works  in  which  he  rises  to  the  height 
of  a  genuine  and  noble  eloquence.  In  all  the  arts  that 
make  a  great  preacher  or'  orator,  Newman  was  strikingly 
deficient.  His  manner  was  constrained,  ungraceful  and 
even  awkward,  his  voice  was  thin  and  weak.  His  bearing 
was  not  at  first  impressive  in  any  way.  A  gaunt,  emaciated 
figure,  a  sharp  and  eagle  face,  a  cold,  meditative  eye,  rather 
repelled  than  attracted  those  who  saw  him  for  the  first 
time.  Singularly  devoid  of  affectation,  Newman  did  not 
always  conceal  his  intellectual  scorn  of  men  who  made 
loud  pretence  with  inferior  gifts,  and  the  men  must  have 
been  few  indeed  whose  gifts  were  not  inferior  to  his. 
Newman  had  no  scorn  for  intellectual  inferiority  in  itself; 
he  despised  it  only  when  it  gave  itself  airs.  Mr  Gladstone 
said  of  him  : — • 

'Dr  Newman's  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  one  which,  if 
you  considered  it  in  its  separate  parts,  would  lead  you  to 
arrive  at  very  unsatisfactory  conclusions.  There  was  not 
very  much  change  in  the  inflection  of  his  voice !  action 
there  was  none ;  his  sermons  were  read,  and  his  eyes  were 
always  on  his  book ;  and  all  that,  you  will  say,  is  against 
efficiency  in  preaching.  Yes ;  but  you  take  the  man  as  a 
whole,  and  there  was  a  stamp  and  a  seal  upon  him,  there 
was  a  solemn  music  and  sweetness  in  his  tone,  there  was  a 
completeness  in  the  figure,  taken  together  with  the  tone 
and  with  the  manner,  which  made  even  his  delivery  such 
as  I  have  described  it,  and  though  exclusively  with  written 
sermons,  singularly  attractive.' 

The  Cardinal's  originality  lay  in  his  ideas.  Like  Mas- 
sillon  he  had  a  surprising  knowledge  of  the  human  heart. 
Like  his  famous  brother.  Professor  Francis  William  New- 
man, he  had  a  musical  voice,  which,  though  not  powerful, 
was  expressive.     A  university  is  mainly  a  school  of  learn- 


l66  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

ing.  It  matters  little  to  students  how  a  professor  speaks, 
it  is  what  he  says  to  which  the  greedy  ear  of  the  learner 
is  lent.  It  is  not  the  manner  but  the  matter  which  is 
important  to  them.  It  is  knowledge,  not  voice  or  gesture, 
which  wins  the  degree.  John  Henry  Newman  had  been  lost 
or  unregarded  had  he  not  had  the  good  fortune  to  have  for 
hearers  men  to  whom  ideas  were  everything.  Originality 
there  gave  him  his  great  fame. 

Dr  Channing  had  newness  and  boldness  of  thought 
where  other  preachers  were  conventional.  He  was  a  lean 
man,  quite  fragile.  Americans,  who  always  give  the  weight 
of  their  public  men,  and  partly  estimate  them  by  their 
avoirdupois  qualities,  found  that  Dr  Channing  weighed  only 
ICO  lbs  !  But  he  was  aided  by  a  marvellous  voice.  Men 
wondered  how  such  tones  as  his  could  proceed  from  so 
slender  a  throat.  He  cultivated  this  power,  which  grew  by 
practice.     When  he  read  the  line  of  the  hymn, — 

Angels  roll  that  stone  away, 

Dr  Robert  Collyer  told  me  the  congregation  thought  they 
heard  the  movement  of  the  stone  in  the  air. 

Of  the  LoweWs  Offering,  published  by  Charles  Knight  in 
his  day,  the  Times  said  : — '  It  is  the  production  of  factory 
girls  in  Lowell — the  American  Manchester — and  we  much 
doubt  if  all  the  duchesses  in  England  could  write  as  much 
and  so  seldom  offend  against  good  taste.  The  secret 
of  these  girls'  success  in  writing  arises  from  their  writing 
only  about  what  they  know — common  life  and  their  own 
affairs ! ' 

A  cause  of  failure  with  young  lecturers  is  neglecting 
to  establish  a  common  understanding  between  themselves 
and  their  auditors,  and  not  comprehending  the  use 
of  a  brief  explanatory  exordium.  We  know  that  the 
geometer  would  in  vain  reason  with  others  unless 
axioms    were     previously     agreed     upon     for     reference. 


ORIGINALITY  IN  ORATORY  167 

So  with  an  audience.  If  they  do  not  agree  with  the 
speaker  as  to  the  premises  from  which  he  reasons,  they 
have  no  standard  by  which  they  can  test  his  conclusions. 
Hence,  though  he  may  confound  them,  he  will  never 
convince  them. 

It  is  in  this  sense  only  that  those  who  would  improve 
the  public  must  'write  down '  to  the  pubhc.  They  may, 
and  they  ought  to,  elevate  the  public  by  their  sentiments, 
but  they  must  found  their  reasoning  on  what  the  populace 
understand  and  admit,  or  they  reason  in  vain.  The  people 
must  be  taken  at  what  they  are,  and  elevated  to  what  they 
should  be. 

Thus  the  student  may  see  that  originality  may  be  shown 
in  various  ways.  Lucidity  in  itself  is  one  source  of  it.  Be 
plain,  but  not  coarse.  What  is  called  plain  speaking  is 
generally  insolent  speaking.  Keep  clear  of  charnel-house 
terms,  which  appal  the  hearer,  and  turn  him  away.  Be 
clear  in  a  salubrious  sense.  Hint  as  little  as  possible. 
An  inuendo  is  like  scouring  the  doorstep  with  butter — it 
makes  it  slippery,  not  clean.  Spare  a  general  audience 
oyster  ideas  that  lie  in  the  deep  beds  of  a  subject,  and 
require  a  professional  knife  to  open  them. 

It  is  always  pleasant  to  speak  to  a  Scotch  audience. 
They  always  understand  you.  If  you  have  a  point  they 
see  it,  and  if  you  have  not  a  point  they  see  that.  They 
will  forgive  you  being  dull  if  you  mean  something.  De- 
pend on  ideas,  and  be  sure  you  have  them.  Ideas  are 
the  soul  of  speech. 

A  man  sees  best  with  his  eyes  well  open.  There  are 
somnambulist  auditors  who  seem  to  walk  into  an  assembly 
asleep.  The  first  thing  which  produces  wakefulness  on  their 
part  is  the  discovery  that  something  pertinent  is  being  said, 
in  which  they  are  concerned.  A  man  who  has  expecta- 
tions from  his  aunt  looks  at  the  old  lady  in  a  much  more 
wakeful  way  than  he  would  had  she  nothing  to  give.  If 
the  speaker  is  unknown,  the  mind  of  the  audience  is  a  mere 


1 68  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

cold,  hard  surface,  upon  which  an  irapression  can  scarcely 
be  made.  Then  there  is  no  help  for  the  speaker  but  a 
fiery  statement,  some  flashing  tone,  some  light  of  illustra- 
tion which  has  warmth  in  it — which  melts  indifference  into 
interest.  Then  attention  becomes  as  wax,  upon  which  the 
deepest  or  most  delicate  impression  can  be  made — and 
time,  instead  of  effacing  it,  hardens  it  into  durability.  It 
was  said  by  Panchard  that  Mirabeau  was  '  the  first  man  in 
the  world  to  speak  upon  a  question  he  knew  nothing  about.' 
That  was  because  he  had  much  general  knowledge  and 
knew  more  than  he  was  known  to  know.  Besides,  he  had 
confidence,  self-possession  and  quickness  of  mind,  which 
enabled  him  to  see  what  might,  or  ought  to  be  said  on  a 
new  subject  as  soon  as  he  heard  it  proposed.  It  might 
have  been  in  reference  to  Mirabeau  that  Lord  Brougham 
said  '  Know  everything  about  something  and  something 
about  everything,'  for  Mirabeau's  knowledge  was  far  wider 
and  out  of  the  way  than  Panchard  knew.  In  nine  years' 
experience  in  the  office  of  a  public  tutor  in  one  of  the 
Universities,  Paley  found,  in  discoursing  to  young  persons 
upon  topics  of  morality,  that  unless  the  subject  was  so 
drawn  up  to  a  point  as  to  exhibit  the  full  force  of  an  objec- 
tion, or  the  exact  place  of  a  doubt,  before  any  explanation 
was  entered  upon,  it  was  labour  lost.  In  other  words, 
unless  some  curiosity  was  excited  before  it  was  attempted 
to  be  satisfied,  the  labour  of  the  teacher  was  wasted. 
When  information  was  not  desired  it  was  seldom,  he  found, 
retained.  Create  in  the  mind  of  the  audience  a  sense  of 
want  of  the  knowledge  you  have  to  give,  and  they  will 
attend  to  it  because  they  desire  it.  Paley  had  much 
original  common  sense  acquired  by  observation. 

Absolute  repugnance  to  a  pursuit  is  no  proof  of  incapa- 
city for  excelling  in  it ;  the  career  of  hundreds  show  they 
had  the  greatest  aversion  to  the  profession  circumstances 
compelled  them  to  follow.  When  a  boy  at  a  Dame's  school, 
she  boxed  my  cars  for  three  days  because  I  would  not  try 


ORIGINALITY   IN  ORATORY  169 

to  make  curved  lines,  of  which  I  beh'eved  myself  entirely 
incapable.  All  the  while  I  had  form  in  my  blood,  could 
make  any  letter,  and  had  latent  facility  and  delight  in 
inventing  new  forms,  and  I  knew  it  not. 

We  know  not  what  we  can  do  till  we  have  made  the 
experiment,  and  in  mistrusting  our  powers  we  increase  the 
difficulty  we  have  to  surmount.  Charles  Reece  Pemberton 
whose  delineations  of  Shakespeare's  tragic  heroes  was  second 
only  to  Macready's,  avowed  that  when  he  first  saw  a  play 
performed  he  felt  conscious  that  he  should  never  be  equal 
to  the  duties  even  of  a  scene-shifter.  Julius  Csesar,  natur- 
ally of  a  weak  and  tender  constitution,  was  determined,  by 
exercise,  inuring  himself  to  exposure  and  other  such  means, 
to  improve  it ;  even  he,  afterwards  so  renowned,  shed  tears 
on  reflecting  that  at  his  own  age  Alexander  had  done  so 
much,  whilst  he  himself  had  done  nothing.  Originality  is 
perceived  in  its  sagacity  in  attempting  an  untried  course, 
and  its  singleness  of  purpose  in  pursuing  it;  for  general 
excellence  is  an  impossibility,  and  it  is  folly  and  dissipation 
of  time  to  attempt  it.  Wellington  possessed  scarcely  any 
quality  which  the  world  recognises  as  genius,  save  in 
purpose  which  he  followed  out.  De  Witt  said,  '  Do  one 
thing  at  a  time.'  We  must  not  only  have  a  purpose,  but 
keep  to  that  purpose  only,  if  we  wish  to  succeed,  for  it  is  of 
no  use  having  a  purpose,  with  aptitude  and  opportunity 
for  carrying  it  out,  if  we  are  deficient  in  the  power  of  con- 
tinuity. Excellence  comes  by  continuity.  The  strength  of 
mind  is  measured  by  the  amount  of  perseverance  used. 
Genius  itself  is  a  thing  of  degree  ;  its  elements  are  common 
to  all,  and  if  all  do  all  they  can,  though  not  eminent, 
each  will  rise  higher  in  the  scale  of  power.  Demosthenes, 
Cicero,  Csesar,  Napoleon,  all  worked  hard.  It  is  this 
working  hard  which  has  made  the  man  of  mediocrity  pass 
by  those  to  whom  nature  has  been  prodigal  of  other 
gifts. 

It  is  told  of  Frederic  the  Great,  that  being  informed  cf 


170  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  death  of  one  of  his  chaplains,  a  man  of  considerable 
learning  and  piety,  he  desired  that  his  successor  should 
not  be  behind  him  in  these  qualifications,  and  apprised 
a  candidate  about  to  preach  a  trial  sermon  at  the  royal 
chapel,  that  he  would  himself  furnish  him  with  a  text  from 
which  he  was  to  make  an  extempore  sermon.  The  king 
arrived  at  the  end  of  the  prayers,  and  on  the  candidate 
ascending  the  pulpit,  one  of  his  majesty's  aides-de-camp 
presented  him  with  a  sealed  paper.  The  preacher  opened 
it  and  found  nothing  written  therein.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, lose  his  presence  of  mind,  but  turning  the  paper  on 
both  sides,  he  said,  'My  brethren,  here  is  nothing  and 
there  is  nothing;  out  of  nothing  God  created  all  things,' 
and  he  proceeded  to  deliver  an  admirable  discourse  upon 
the  wonders  of  the  creation. 

'Hie  Rhodus ;  hie  salta'  (Here  is  Rhodes — leap  here). 
Do  not  wait  for  a  change  of  outward  circumstances,  but 
take  your  circumstances  as  they  are,  and  make  the  best  of 
them.  This  saying,  which  was  meant  to  shame  a  braggart, 
will  admit  of  a  very  different  application.  Goethe  has 
changed  the  postulate  of  Archimedes,  '  Give  me  a  ful- 
crum and  I  will  move  the  world,'  into  the  precept, 
*  Make  good  thy  standing-place  if  thou  wouldst  move  the 
world.'    This  is  what  he  did  throughout  his  life. 

There  are  few  problems  of  events  which  do  not  also 
bring  their  solutions  with  them,  were  we  cool  enough  to 
read  them ;  but  men  do  not  believe  what  they  see,  or  will 
not  see  what  is  before  them.  We  make  pre-conceived 
opinion,  pre  -  determined  judgment,  overrule  new  facts. 
We  too  often  act  the  part  of  the  man  who  is  so  much  in 
love  with  his  boat  that  he  never  ventures  to  sail  in  it.  An 
orator  should  go  to  the  rostrum  mainly  to  announce  con- 
clusions, not  to  form  them.  Let  him  take  advantage  of  the 
tide  of  feeling,  temper  and  exclamations  of  the  meeting; 
but  unless  he  is  firm  in  a  previous  purpose,  these  things 
will  take  advantage  of  him,  and  carry  him  away  from  his 


ORIGINALITY   IN   ORATORY  171 

subject,  instead  of  his  carrying  away  the  audience.  The 
main  word  or  phrase  should  strike  like  a  blow,  or  pierce 
through  the  flesh — and  no  words  should  precede  or  accom- 
pany the  term  intended  to  pierce,  save  those  which  like 
feathers  give  wings  to  the  arrow.  All  superfluous  words 
are  as  friction  in  the  air,  and  impede  the  shaft,  or  act  as 
buffers  mitigating  its  force,  or  protecting  him  against  whom 
it  is  levelled.  Every  aimless  phrase  or  word  which  points 
elsewhere  than  the  target,  divert  attention,  so  that  no  one 
sees  when  it  is  hit.  Skill  in  rhetorical,  that  is  intellectual 
markmanship  (if  there  be  such  a  word),  will  win  for  a  man 
the  repute  of  originality  without  his  knowing  how  he  came 
by  it — the  quality  not  being  common. 

One  day,  when  Frederick  Douglas  first  appeared  on  the 
platform,  he  was  speaking  against  the  northern  *  dough- 
faces,' and  quoted  against  them  the  text,  'And  the  Lord 
God  said  unto  the  serpent.  Because  thou  hast  done  this, 
thou  art  cursed  above  all  cattle,  and  above  every  beast  of 
the  field;  upon  thy  belly  shalt  thou  go,  and  dust  shalt 
thou  eat  all  the  days  of  thy  life.'  Immediately  arose  the 
familiar  hiss,  and,  drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
Douglas,  pointing  to  the  sibilant  creatures,  exclaimed,  'I 
told  you  so.  Upon  thy  belly  shalt  thou  go,  dust  shalt  thou 
eat,  and  hiss,  all  the  days  of  thy  life.'  This  was  not  in  the 
text,  but  it  told  all  the  same  upon  the  serpents  in  the 
meeting. 

There  was  a  famous  negress  in  America  known  as 
'  Sojourner  Truth ' — a  name  she  gave  herself,  as  she 
went  from  place  to  place  preaching,  even  when  she  was 
100  years  of  age.  Hearing,  during  slavery  days,  Douglas 
lecture  in  despairing  tone  upon  the  termination  of  slavery, 
Sojourner  raised  her  tall  form,  rendered  more  striking  by 
her  flowing  grey  hair,  and  exclaimed,  with  her  deep,  loud 
voice,  '  Frederick,  is  God  dead  ? '  Her  short  oration 
evoked  the  hopes  and  enthusiasm  of  the  assembly,  who 
were  astonished  at  the  splendid  question.     She  had  pro- 


172  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

bably  nursed  the  orator,  who  was  born  in  slavery,  and 
called  him  Frederick,  as  in  earlier  days.  In  a  striking 
speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  Mr  Stansfeld  said : 
*  The  whole  principle  of  the  Home  Rule  Bill  was  to  find  a 
modus  viveridi  between  the  two  nations.  The  geographical 
position  of  Ireland  determined  its  political  relations. 
There  must  be  a  union — but  not  too  rigid  and  absolute 
a  union,  as  though  the  British  and  the  Irish  were  monoton- 
ously one.'  Thus  a  phrase  which  has  light  in  it  makes  the 
fortune  of  a  speech. 

Originality  is  like  fortune — a  man  may  inherit  it  at  birth, 
or  it  may  come  to  him  after,  with  this  difference ;  no  one 
need  wait  for  originality  being  given ;  he  may  find  it  by 
looking  for  it.  When  Turner  wished  to  paint  a  storm  he 
had  himself  lashed  to  the  mast  of  a  ship  and  went  out  into 
the  tempest  to  see  what  it  was  like.  When  Massillon  said 
he  had  studied  his  own  heart,  he  knew  that  strange  know- 
ledge was  to  be  found  there.  Fielding  quotes  the  in- 
structive saying,  '  Man  differs  from  man  more  than  man 
differs  from  the  beast.'  Thus  sources  of  originality  lie  thick 
wherever  a  man  moves,  if  he  gives  his  mind  to  observe 
them. 

One  thing  has  to  be  borne  in  mind.  When  Shakespeare 
says  *To  thine  own  self  be  true,'  a  man  who  acts  on  the 
injunction  should  ask  himself  what  his  own  self  really  is. 
Is  it  a  base  self,  or  a  noble  self?  his  ignorant  self,  or  his 
cultivated  self?  Let  not  the  appeal  be  to  a  base  but  to  a 
best  self. 

Proportion  of  time,  as  well  as  proportion  of  parts,  is 
essential,  both  for  the  sake  of  the  speaker's  strength  as  well 
as  the  hearer's  patience.  Whitfield  is  reported  to  have  said 
that  a  man  with  the  eloquence  of  an  angel  ought  not  to 
exceed  forty  minutes  in  the  length  of  a  sermon,  and  it  is 
well  known  that  Wesley  seldom  exceeded  thirty.  '  I  have 
almost  always  found,'  says  another  eminent  preacher,  'that 
the  last  fifteen  minutes  of  a  sermon  an  hour  in  length  was 


ORIGINALITY   IN    ORATORY  1/3 

worse  than  lost,  both  upon  the  speaker  and  congregation  ! ' 
There  is  practical  wisdom  is  these  remarks.  A  man  who 
determines  to  speak  but  a  short  time  is  more  likely  to 
command  the  highest  energy  for  his  effort,  and  to  speak 
with  sustained  power.  Half  an  hour  is  time  enough  for 
immortality.  Mirabeau  achieved  it  by  efforts  of  less 
duration.  It  is  not  without  reason  that  we  keep  the 
proverb,  '  Brevity  is  wit.'  There  is  originality  in  that  brevity 
which  fully  informs,  but  never  tires.  The  orator  may 
wisely  remember  the  lines  of  Mr  E.  E.  Bowen,  sung  at 
Speech  Day  at  Harrow,  when  John  Lyon  approaches 
Queen  Elizabeth  at  Tilbury  Fort,  to  plead  for  the  School 

Charter — 

'  Marry  come  up,'  says  good  Queen  Bess, 
'  Draw  it  shorter,  and  prose  it  less  ; 
For  speeches  are  things  we  mostly  bless, 
When  once  we've  got  them  over.' 


•       CHAPTER    XXV 

THE   OUTSIDE   MIND   OF   THE   ORATOR 

Many  people  have  no  outside  mind  (nor  inside  mind 
either),  which  deprives  them  of  the  greatest  gift  of  the  gods 
— that  of  *  seeing  themselves  as  others  see  them.'  Few 
attain  to  that  power  ;  but  what  is  more  important,  rhetoric- 
ally, is  that  the  orator  sees  his  subject  as  it  may  strike 
others,  and  provides  that  it  shall  strike  them  rightly.  Dr 
Burchard  (before  mentioned),  never  thought  how  his  fatal 
alliteration  of  '  Rum,  Romanism  and  Rebellion '  would 
strike  his  Presidential  audience.  Sir  William  FoUet,  the 
nature  of  whose  forensic  strength  has  been  described,  had 
no  thought  as  to  the  outside  impression  he  might  make 
against  the  justice  and  impartiality  of  the  law  he  was 
bound,  as  Attorney-General,  to  uphold  and  exalt.  At 
the  trial  of  Thomas  Cooper  he  was  so  vindictive  to  the 
Chartist  shoemaker  at  the  bar  that,  despite  Cooper's  re- 
conversion to  Christianity,  and  the  Divine  forgiveness  which 
he  preached,  he  never  forgave  Sir  William  Follet,  who  filled 
the  hearts  of  thousands  of  Chartists  with  hatred  of  Whig 
Government.  All  the  while,  fair  speech  would  have  vindi- 
cated the  law  and  increased  respect  for  the  party  he  repre- 
sented. Half  the  disaffection  of  the  people  in  every  nation 
is  created  by  well-meaning  vindicators  of  order  who  have 
no  outside  mind,  and  who  betray  the  interests  committed 
to  them. 

Very  often  a  man  betrays  himself  by  not  considering  how 

174 


THE  OUTSIDE   MIND   OF   THE   ORATOR  I75 

Others  may  regard  him,  in  consequence  of  what  he  says. 
Professor  H.  Morley,  in  his  introduction  to  '  JuUus  Cffisar,'* 
shows  that  the  continuation  of  the  tragedy  to  the  death 
of  Brutus  was  necessary  to  the  design  Shakespeare  had. 
Here  he  might  have  said  reasonably  and  effectively, 
'  The  reader  who  is  of  this  opinion  will  think  that  the  critics 
who  have  said  that  the  play  ought  to  have  concluded  with 
the  assassination  scene  did  not  understand  the  theory  on 
which  the  great  tragedy  was  evidently  written.'  Instead  of 
words  to  this  effect.  Professor  Morley  exclaims  : — 

'  Shall  we  ask  now  where  the  wit  lay  under  the  wigs  of 
critics  who  wondered  why  Shakespeare  did  not  end  the  play 
of  "  Julius  Caesar  "  with  the  scene  of  the  assassination  ?  ' 

This  is  to  say,  now  Professor  Morley  has  spoken,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  under  tvhose  wig  the  wit  lies.  This  was 
quite  apparent  from  his  clear  and  instructive  argument,  with- 
out his  saying  so  and  repelling  the  reader  by  his  conceit. 

A  man  may  be  the  first  to  conceive  an  idea  of  mark,  or 
to  discover  a  new  method  of  public  service — an  idea  which 
nobody  thinks  much  of  at  the  time — a  method  which  no- 
body acts  upon.  Years  after,  somebody  comes  forward 
with  the  same  thought,  or  the  same  device,  who  obtains 
both  credit  and  attention.  He  may  have  originated  the 
idea  independently,  and  at  a  time  when  the  public  were 
better  inclined  than  before  to  entertain  the  conception,  or 
he  may  have  derived  it  from  the  first  promulgator,  to 
whom  no  reference  is  made.  If,  however,  he  who  was 
first  in  the  field  comes  forward  with  clamorous  or  imputa- 
tive claims  for  credit,  he  rarely  gets  it,  however  much  it 
may  be  his  due.  But  if  he  contents  himself  with  express- 
ing his  pleasure  at  seeing  views  now  accepted,  coincident 
with  those  which  long  ago,  at  a  certain  time,  and  in  a 
certain  way,  were  advanced  by  himself,  but  were  then  un- 
noticed or  unregarded— the  modesty  of  his  reference  will 
beget  public  interest  in  the  question.  Many  would  be 
*  Cassell's  'National  Library.' 


176  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

disposed  to  admit  his  originality  who  would  refuse  assent 
to  it  if  it  were  put  forward  in  a  spirit  of  jealous  and 
egotistical  pretension.  It  is  important  to  an  advocate  and 
an  orator  not  to  forget  that  every  public  question  has  an 
outside. 

When  I  v.'as  a  young  man  I  was  one  of  several  lecturers 
engaged  in  debating  and  explaining  the  principles  of  the 
Communistic  movement  then  advocated.     It  was  our  duty 
to  report  from  time  to  time  to  the  New  Moral  World,  the 
journal  of  the  movement  (of  which  we  were  accredited  mis- 
sionaries), the  proceedings  in  which  we  took  part.    The  most 
eminent  of  my  colleagues,  Mr  Lloyd  Jones,  seldom  did  this. 
When  asked  why  few  reports  came  from  him,  he  answered, 
'  How  could  he  praise  himself? '    Of  course  he  could  not  use- 
fully do  so.     Nobody  wanted  him  to  do  it.     But  what  he 
might  have  done  was  to  describe  the  quality  and  number  of 
the  audiences  whom  he  addressed,  what  adversaries  appeared, 
the  point  of  what  they  said,  and  briefly,  the  purport  of  his 
replies.     This  would  be  instructive  to  his  colleagues  else- 
where, and  to  the  readers  of  the  journal  in  question.     He 
was  not  required  to  tell  them  how  clever  he  was — how 
successfully  he  silenced  his  opponents — or  how  brilliantly 
he  acquitted  himself.     All  this  would  better  appear  in  his 
arguments  than  in  any  eulogy  he  could  write  of  himself. 
Could  he  have  looked  outside  himself  in  that  respect,  as  he 
did  in  many  other  things,  he  had  been  further  useful  and 
entertaining. 

It  was  through  the  influence  of  Madame  I^Iaintenon  that 
Massillon  was  appointed  to  preach  before  Louis  XIV.  at  the 
Advent,  1699.  Louis  XIV.  was  then  at  the  height  of  his 
power  and  glory  ;  the  military  reverses  which  embittered  his 
later  years  had  not  begun  ;  he  was  '  The  Grand  Monarch  ' 
of  Europe,  intoxicated  with  flattery.  It  was  customary  for 
the  court  preachers  to  begin  with  a  compliment  to  him.  The 
courtiers  were  keenly  expectant,  as  they  watched  the 
preacher's  calm,   rapt  face,  as  to  how  he  would  turn  his 


THE  OUTSIDE   MIND  OF  THE  ORATOR         \^^ 

opening  sentences.  'Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,'  was 
the  unexpected  text.  And  again  he  paused.  'Sire,'  he 
said,  *  if  the  world  were  here  speaking  to  your  Majesty,  and 
not  Jesus  Christ,  it  would  not  address  you  thus.  It  would 
say  to  you,  "  Blessed  is  the  prince  who  has  never  fought  but 
he  has  conquered ;  who  has  imposed  peace  on  the  nations 
at  his  will ;  who  has  filled  the  universe  with  his  name ; 
who  through  a  long  and  flourishing  reign  has  enjoyed  at 
his  ease  the  fruits  of  his  glory,  the  love  of  his  people,  the 
admiration  of  his  enemies,  the  wisdom  of  his  laws,  the 
noble  hope  of  a  numerous  posterity."  But,  sire,  Jesus 
Christ  speaks  not  as  the  world  speaks.  ''Happy,"  He 
saith  to  you,  "not  he  who  wins  the  admiration  of  the 
present  world,  but  who  is  chiefly  occupied  with  the 
world  to  come;  who  lives  in  forgetfulness  of  all  that 
passeth  away  because  his  conversation  is  in  Heaven. 
Happy  not  he  whose  reign  will  be  immortalised  in 
history,  but  he  whose  penitential  tears  shall  have  blotted 
out  the  history  of  his  sins  from  the  memory  of  God." 
Yea,  it  is  he  who  is  happy.  "Blessed  are  they  that 
mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted."'- 

A  monk,  who  before  this  had  been  commanded  to 
preach  before  the  king,  began  his  sermon  thus:  'Sire,  I 
mean  not  to  pay  any  compliment  to  your  Majesty — I  have 
found  none  in  the  Gospel.'  This  monk  was  more  intent 
on  displaying  his  own  cloistered  asceticism  than  on  dis- 
playing the  truth,  and  he  never  more  had  opportunity 
of  touching  the  conscience  of  the  king.  By  obtruding 
'faithfulness'  out  of  season  he  lost  his  chance  of  being 
useful  in  season.  Massillon  was  wiser.  He  knew  that 
truth  does  better  to  knock  at  doors  than  break  them 
open.  You  may  indeed  thrust  truth  through  the  splintered 
panels,  but  the  occupant  of  the  house  will  kick  it  out  again 
as  soon  as  you  are  gone.  Violence  begets  contempt,  except 
among  cowards. 

Once  I  had  a  house  in  which  I  designed  to  reside  to  the 

M 


178  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

end  of  my  days,  and  in  order  that  those  days  should  not 
be  unnecessarily  shortened,  I  spent  ^^150  in  making  it 
entirely  healthy.  To  be  sure  of  this,  I  called  in  a  sanitary 
engineer.  Only  one  thing  was  wanting  in  the  end — a  man- 
hole of  eleven  feet  in  depth  to  the  main  drain  for  access  to 
a  trap  to  be  placed  there.  This  I  wished  made  outside  the 
house,  and  application  was  sent  to  the  town  authorities  for 
leave  to  do  it.  The  answer  was  that  they  had  refused  1 1,000 
applications,  involving  an  operation  on  the  footpath  where 
the  shaft  in  question  would  be  made.  The  builder  who 
was  making  my  alterations — himself  an  alderman — said 
'nothing  could  be  done;  the  shaft  must  be  in  the  house,' 
and  he  took  up  the  floor  of  my  front  room,  and  dug  nine 
feet  down,  before  I  was  aware  of  it.  I  desired  him  to  fill 
up  the  hole  and  replace  the  floor.  I  consulted  the  mayor 
— who  happened  to  call  upon  me — who  said  he  was  afraid 
the  permission  I  wanted  could  not  be  had.  Seeing  there 
was  an  outside  to  this  question,  I  wrote  to  the  works  com- 
mittee the  following  letter,  with  a  view  to  show  them  how 
their  refusal  would  appear  to  the  public  if  made  known  to 
them  : — 

*  Gentlemen, — Word  has  come  to  me  that  you  decline  to 
permit  me  to  put  a  shaft  outside  my  house.  The  town 
recently  spent  ;^iooo  in  vindicating  its  salubriousness  as  a 
place  where  visitors  may  come,  or  gentlemen  reside,  without 
having  to  make  a  preliminary  engagement  with  their  under- 
takers. Believing  this,  I  became  a  resident,  when  I  am 
informed  that,  if  I  desire  to  sink  a  shaft  upon  my  premises 
for  sanitary  purposes,  it  must  be  within  my  house.  Do  you 
mean  that  I  must  ask  my  friends  whether  they  will  dine  in 
the  "  Front  sewer-room  "  or  in  the  "  Back  sewer-room  ?  "  It 
would  cost  me  less  to  have  three  burials  from  my  house 
than  the  alterations  for  salubrity  I  am  making.  But  as  I 
may  be  one  of  the  three  to  be  buried,  I  object  to  this  risk. 
True,  I  may  let  the  house  to  a  tenant,  but  if  I  know  that 


THE   OUTSIDE   MIND   OF   THE   ORATOR  I79 

the  germs  of  death  can  percolate  into  it,  I  should  feel,  if  a 
death  ensued,  that  I  was  a  murderer.  Landlord  law  would 
permit  me  to  do  so,  but  I  should  not  be  less  a  scoundrel  if, 
for  the  sake  of  rent,  I  did  it.     What  say  you,  gentlemen  ? ' 

The  Town  Surveyor,  a  clear-headed  officer,  sent  me  the 
permission  I  sought.  Afterwards,  the  mayor  asked  me  for  a 
copy  of  my  letter  which  obtained  for  me  this  unexpected 
leave.  I  gained  this  point  from  my  habit  of  looking  to  see 
whether  a  question  has  an  outside.  I  cite  this  instance 
because  a  precept  is  never  sufficiently  recommended  until 
you  show  how  it  comes  out  in  practice.  As  far  as  my 
experience  goes,  the  dialetic  injunction  is  true — 'Know 
more  than  you  use.  Read  and  think  outside  and  all  around.' 
Goldsmith,  who  greatly  admired  Burke's  skill  in  statement, 
in  argument,  and  in  quietly  mastering  and  crushing  error, 
as  a  boa  constrictor  might,  said '  Burke  wound  into  a  subject 
like  a  serpent.'  He  must  therefore  have  looked  outside  to 
discover  the  most  convenient  aperture  by  which  he  could 
enter. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

PULPIT   ORATORY 

Considering  the  many  thousands  of  preachers  of  all 
denominations  who  address  every  week  more  or  less 
intelligent  congregations,  it  would  be  conducive  to  the 
public  taste  as  well  as  pleasure,  if  each  preacher  spoke  well. 
Mr  Bright  was  of  opinion  that  no  one  should  be  appointed 
to  preach  who  had  not  a  tolerable  voice,  and  some  know- 
ledge of  the  art  of  expression.  Soldiers  of  the  cross,  like 
other  soldiers,  should  be  selected  with  reference  to  their 
capabilities  for  discharging  the  duties  of  the  service. 

Oratory,  the  art  of  public  persuasion,  might  exist  in  the 
Church  to  a  greater  extent  than  we  find  it,  but  for  its  dread 
of  imitating  the  theatre.  Art  is  mostly  suppressed  among 
the  Dissenters  by  the  influence  of  evangelism.  Did  this 
not  exist,  their  precarious  pay  would  deter  them  from  the 
pursuit  of  eloquence.  The  bar  is  too  full  of  business  and 
too  anxious  for  fees  to  reach  much  distinction.  The 
politician  is  generally  indolent  if  not  dependent;  and  if 
necessitous,  he  has  to  struggle  for  himself  when  he  should 
be  struggling  for  excellence.  General  Ludlow,  whose 
maxim  the  reader  has  seen,  said  a  man  *  should  say  what 
he  means,  and  mean  what  he  says.'  This  is  rhetoric, 
because  it  means  sincerity,  and  sincerity  is  persuasion  to  all 
who  know  no  more  than  the  speaker.  Sincerity  is  not 
errorless  ;  the  most  honest  man  may  be  mistaken,  but  the 
logician  should  never   be  mistaken.      Logic  is   the  art  of 

1 80 


PULPIT  ORATORY  l8l 

avoiding  error,  and  should  be  one  of  the  attainments  of 
every  preacher.  Cardinal  Newman  was  of  this  opinion. 
In  a  remarkable  passage,  he  says  : — 

'  One  main  portion  of  intellectual  education,  of  the  labours 
of  both  school  and  university,  is  to  remove  the  original 
dimness  of  the  mind's  eye,  to  strengthen  and  perfect  its 
vision;  to  enable  it  to  look  out  into  the  world  right  for- 
ward, steadily  and  truly;  to  give  the  mind  clearness, 
accuracy,  precision ;  to  enable  it  to  use  words  aright,  to 
understand  what  it  says,  to  conceive  justly  what  it  thinks 
about,  to  abstract,  compare,  analyse,  divide,  refine  and 
reason  correctly.  There  is  a  particular  science  which  takes 
these  matters  in  hand,  and  it  is  called  logic  ;  but  it  is  not 
by  logic — certainly  not  by  logic  alone — that  the  faculty 
I  speak  of  is  acquired.  The  infant  does  not  learn  to  spell 
and  read  the  hues  upon  his  retina  by  any  scientific  rule; 
nor  does  the  student  learn  accuracy  of  thought  by  any 
manual  or  treatise.  The  instruction  given  him,  of  whatever 
kind,  if  it  be  really  instruction,  is  mainly,  or  at  least  pre- 
eminently, this — a  discipline  in  accuracy  of  mind.' 

Mr  Spurgeon,  who  made  pleasantry  popular  in  the  pulpit, 
used  to  tell  young  preachers  how  he  went  with  a  friend  to 
the  Crystal  Palace  one  day,  and  going  to  the  rifle  range  his 
friend  took  a  shot  and  made  a  'centre,'  and  he  seemed 
proud  of  it.  But  there  were  two  targets,  one  on  the  right, 
and  one  on  the  left,  and  the  man  in  charge  said,  '  Which 
target  did  the  gent  aim  at  ? '  His  friend  answered,  '  The 
right-hand  one.'  'I  thought  so,'  said  the  man,  'for  you 
hit  the  left  one.'  That  was  not  a  creditable  thing  to  a 
marksman,  though  he  succeeded  in  hitting  something. 
Mr  Spurgeon  said  it  was  no  credit  to  a  minister  to  win  a 
soul  by  inadvertence.  He  should  aim,  and  learn  the  art 
of  hitting  what  he  aimed  at. 

The  principles  of  oratory,  which  conduce  to  secular  effici- 
ency, are  necessary  to  excellence  in  the  spiritual  sphere. 
As  the  law  of  causation  which  reigns  in  matters   extend 


l82  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

to  mind,  so  the  laws  of  rhetoric  reign  in  divinity  as  well 
as  in  the  drama. 

A  lecture,  a  speech,  a  sermon,  or  a  conversation,  is  like 
a  city  in  which  you  seek  a  destination.  Unless  the  path- 
way of  the  meaning  is  clearly  marked  by  relevant  words, 
the  Ustener  will  never  find  his  way  to  it.  If  you  leave  any 
nameless  openings,  his  thoughts  will  turn  down  there,  and 
you  will  be  at  the  end  of  your  argument  before  the  mind 
of  the  hearer  gets  back  to  it. 

Sometimes  preachers  so  treat  their  hearers  that  they 
know  not  what  they  are  to  get  back  to.  Some  years  ago, 
I  went  to  hear  the  Rev.  J.  Guinness  Rogers  and  the 
Rev.  Dr  R.  W.  Dale,  when  those  eminent  ministers  went 
through  the  land  in  exposition  and  vindication  of  Noncon- 
formity of  the  Congregationalist  type.  But  neither  of  them 
when  speaking  in  the  Dome,  Brighton,  ever  said  what 
Congregationalism  was.  Its  aim,  I  understand,  is  to  in- 
crease the  life  of  the  Church,  and  many  of  the  great 
audience  whom  they  attracted,  who  were  of  that  persuasion, 
doubtless  knew  all  about  it.  These  brilliant  propagandists 
appeared  to  assume  that  all  the  audience  did.  Three- 
fourths  of  the  assembly,  to  my  knowledge,  had  not  the 
remotest  idea  of  Congregationalism  as  a  distinctive  religious 
democracy.  The  first  thing  a  preacher  should  think  of  is, 
that  three-fourths  of  a  miscellaneous  congregation  have  little 
knowledge  of  what  he  is  talking  about. 

Though  we  must  admit  that  illiterate  passion  afiects  us 
more  than  learning  without  it,  we  must  keep  in  view  that 
this  passion  is  the  passion  of  conviction.  All  the  rest  is, 
to  Englishmen,  rant.  The  passion  of  conviction  is  modest, 
manly  and  earnest.  If  the  conviction  is  manifestly  founded 
on  knowledge  and  reason,  and  is  seen  to  be  based  on  what 
Grote  happily  called  '  reasoned  truth,'  it  is  omnipotent. 

Massillon,  like  Demosthenes,  won  renown  by  virtue  of 
compression,  coherency,  energy  of  statement,  and  vigour 
of  insight.     He  had  the   penetration    to   see  what   others 


PULPIT  ORATORY  183 

overlooked,  and  when  he  showed  to  his  auditors  what  all 
might  but  did  not  see,  they  were  astounded.  How  many 
profess  to  relinquish  the  things  of  this  world — but  how  few 
do  it. 

'Where  are  they,'  Massillon  exclaims,  'who  renounce,  in 
good  faith,  the  pleasures,  customs,  maxims  and  hopes  of 
the  world  ?  All  have  made  the  promise — who  have  kept  it  ? 
We  see  many  people  who  complain  of  the  world;  who 
accuse  it  of  injustice,  ingratitude,  caprice;  who  inveigh 
bitterly  against  it;  who  speak  loudly  of  its  abuses  and 
errors ;  but  in  denouncing  it  they  love  it,  follow  it,  and 
cannot  do  without  it ;  in  complaining  of  its  injustices  they 
are  angry,  but  not  disabused ;  they  feel  its  evil  treatments, 
but  do  not  recognise  its  dangers ;  they  censure  it,  but  where 
are  those  who  hate  it?  And  by  that  may  be  very  well 
judged  the  people  who  make  pretence  to  salvation.  In 
fine,  you  have  uttered  the  anathema  against  Satan  and  his 
works;  and  what  are  his  works?  Those  which  compose, 
well-nigh,  the  thread  and  entire  course  of  your  life;  the 
pomps,  the  plays,  the  pleasures,  the  spectacles,  the  illusions 
of  which  he  is  the  father,  the  pride  of  which  he  is  the 
model,  the  jealousies  and  the  contentions  of  which  he  is 
the  artificer.' 

Massillon  understood  that  overdoing  was  undoing,  and 
stopped  at  the  point  of  effect.  It  was  Voltaire  who,  more 
than  any  other  writer,  made  the  fame  of  Massillon.  At 
passages  like  these,  and  the  one  previously  quoted,  Voltaire 
said  in  the  Encyclopaedia,  the  audience  were  '  stirred  by  a  sort 
of  involuntary  motion,  the  whole  assembly  started  up  from 
their  seats,  and  such  murmurs  of  surprise  and  acclamation 
arose  as  disconcerted  the  speaker,  though  they  increased 
the  effect  of  his  discourse.' 

The  business  of  a  preacher  is  to  represent  his  master — 
not  himself.  His  art  is  but  the  light  by  which  the  great 
picture  is  seen.  The  purity  and  quality  of  that  light  is 
important.     It  reveals  everything,  but  never  draws  attention 


I84  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

to  itself.  Edward  Irving  was  very  desirous  that  Robert 
Hall  should  hear  him  preach.  This  came  to  pass,  and 
when  Hall  was  asked  what  he  thought  of  Irving's  impas- 
sioned eloquence,  he  answered,  '  He  presented  a  magnifi- 
cent picture,  but  stood  too  much  in  front  of  it  himself,' 

A  story  is  told  of  Massillon  which  many  have  heard  and 
supposed  to  be  of  more  recent  origin.  It  is  said  that  one 
day,  when  he  was  preaching  upon  the  Passion  before  Louis 
XIV.  and  all  the  court,  he  so  affected  his  hearers  that 
everybody  was  in  tears  except  one  citizen,  who  appeared  as 
indifferent  to  what  he  heard  as  to  what  he  saw.  One  of  his 
neighbours,  surprised  at  such  insensibility,  said  to  him, 
'How  can  you  refrain  from  weeping,  while  we  are  all 
bathed  in  tears  ? '  *  That  is  not  astonishing,'  answered  the 
citizen,  '  I  am  not  of  this  parish.'  The  eloquence  which  I 
have  endeavoured  to  describe  would  have  included  this 
man  also  in  the  general  weeping ;  just  as  the  preaching  of 
Whitfield  emptied  the  pockets  of  Franklin,  the  greatest 
utilitarian  economist  who  ever  listened  to  him.  Was  it  not 
Whitfield  of  whom  it  was  written — 

Grant  some  of  knowledge  greater  store, 

More  learned  some  in  teaching  ; 
Yet  few  in  life  did  lighten  more, 

Or  thunder  more  in  preaching  ? 

The  common  impression  is  that  Whitfield  had  revivalist 
rudeness  and  passion.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  extreme 
grace  of  manner.  He  had  art  as  well  as  fervency,  and  the 
union  made  him  irresistible  to  his  hearers,  to  whatever 
parish  they  belonged. 

Having  regard  to  the  dreadful  message  many  preachers 
elect  to  deliver,  which  no  art  can  render  humane,  which 
must  freeze  the  manner  of  the  deliverer,  the  sincere 
preacher  must  find  his  art  more  difficult  than  other  speakers. 
The  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  who  had  heard  Whitfield's 
message,  wrote  to  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  who 
favoured  his  communion,  saying, — 


rULPIT   ORATORY  I 85 

*  It  is  monstrous  to  be  told  that  you  have  a  heart  as  sinful 
as  the  common  wretch  who  crawls  the  earth.  This  is  highly 
offensive  and  insulting,  and  I  cannot  but  wonder  that  your 
ladyship  should  relish  any  sentiments  so  much  at  variance 
with  high  rank  and  good-breeding.' 

No  doctrine  that  is  true  ought  to  be  deemed  repulsive. 
The  object  of  the  pulpit  orator  is  to  persuade  the  minds  of 
men  to  the  acceptance  of  sacred  truth.     But  to  do  this  effectu- 
ally, he  must  not  only  choose  times  and  seasons,  but  his 
audience.    In  the  earlier  days  of  co-operation  it  suffered  from 
neglect  of  this  precaution.     Some  earnest  speakers  delighted 
to  make  statements  which  had  the  effect  of  an  electric  shock 
upon  hearers.     They  exceeded   Prudhon,  who  said  in  his 
sharp,  naked  way,  that  property  was  robbery,  which  repre- 
sented all  mankind  as   engaged  in   thieving.     If  any  one 
desirous  of  arresting  the  attention  of  certain  passengers  in  a 
crowded  street  should  roll  a  skittle  ball  among  them,  all  who 
had  india-rubber  ankles  might  find  the  percussion  tolerable ; 
but  those  with   tender   shins  would   be  so  wounded   and 
wroth  that  they  would,  when  they  recovered,  be  disposed 
to  kick  the  indiscriminate  gentleman  who  had  attacked  them 
so  sharply.     If  a  man  could  pass  an  electric  shock  through  a 
crowd,  he  might  do  good  to  some  by  the  excitement  he  would 
create,  but  a  good  part  of  the  feebler  sort  he  would  knock 
down.     So  it  is  when  the  shocks  of  logic  are  sent  indis- 
criminately through  the  human  understanding ;  some  minds 
are  knocked  quite  over  by  it,  and  never  recover.     This  is 
too  little  thought  of  in  preaching.     It  is  a  serious  thing  to 
shock   the   wrong   persons.      It   may   shatter  them.     The 
mind   may  be  splintered  as  well  as  a  bureau,  and   never 
be   good   for   much   after.     If  we   regard   the  process   of 
treating  conviction  as  a  science,  then  we  must  be  reason- 
able  in   the   use  of  reason.     Sterne   cites   it  as  a  sign  of 
Providence,  that  God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb. 
Most  persons  who  give  attention  to  the  art  of  diffusing  new 
opinions  will  quite  agree  that  it  is  wise  sometimes  to  temper 


l86  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  fierce  wind  of  logic  to  the  feeble  intelligence  shorn  of 
robust  strength.  If  the  experienced  eye  is  discerning 
enough,  it  may  see  lying  all  around  the  fierce  logician, 
prostrate  and  shattered  minds,  in  the  last  agonies  of  new 
ideas,  which  have  struck  them  mercilessly  and  fatally. 
Beyond  all  doubt  there  are  many  persons  whose  notions 
are  so  heavy,  dull  and  matted  together,  that  thought  cannot 
move  within  them,  and  a  \ngorous  disintegrating  shock  is 
the  best  thing  for  them.  Their  minds  are  loosened  thereby, 
and  they  become  able  to  think.  But  this  class  of  persons 
should  be  got  together  when  addressed,  and  what  is  said  to 
them  should  not  be  reported,  or  that  will  happen  which 
Bishop  Colenso  relates.  When  he  had  explained  to  a  Zulu 
chief  the  minatory  character  of  salvation,  he  did  not  con- 
tradict the  bishop,  but  answered  like  a  gentleman,  '  It  may 
be  true,  but  I  would  rather  not  believe  it.'  It  is  a  maxim  in 
modern  hydropathy  that  what  shocks,  or  pains,  or  creates 
revulsion,  is  wrong,  and  may  create  new  diseases.  Pressnitz 
killed  his  own  discovery  by  severity  in  treatment.  Smedley 
reanimated  it  by  making  hydropathic  healing  agreeable. 
When  Fox  was  canvassing  Westminster  he  asked  a  butcher 
in  St  James'  market  for  his  vote,  who  answered,  'Sir,  I 
admire  your  head,  but  damn  your  heart.'  To  which  Fox  re- 
plied, '  Sir,  I  admire  your  candour,  but  damn  your  manners.' 
There  should  be  faithfulness  and  candour  in  the  pulpit,  but 
it  will  be  more  effective  if  considerately  expressed. 

Though  the  clerical  orator  should  not  repel  by  austerity, 
neither  should  he  seek  to  advance  his  views  by  jocoseness. 
The  nature  of  the  best  religion  demands  a  cheerful  reverence 
— but  reverence  in  language  there  must  be.  Mr  Spurgeon 
sometimes  stepped  over  the  boundary  which  separates 
pleasantry  from  buffoonery.  When  Bishop  Disney  sent 
over  to  England  some  negro  evangelists  from  Canada,  one 
sang  'The  Old  Sexton.'     The  lines— 

I  gather  them  in  !  for  man  and  boy, 
Year  after  year  of  grief  and  joy, 


PULPIT   ORATORY  1 8; 

I've  builded  the  houses  that  lie  around, 
In  every  nook  of  this  burial-ground  ; 
Mother  and  daughter,  father  and  son, 
Come  to  my  solitude,  one  by  one, 
But  come  they  strangers,  or  come  they  kin, 
'  I  gather  them  in,  I  gather  them  in,' 

were  sung  with  a  pathos  that  moved  every  heart.     Then 
came  a  song  beginning, — 

I'm  bom  of  God,  I  know  I  am, 
And  you  deny  it,  if  you  can, 
I  want  to  go  to  heaven  when  I  die, 
To  shout  salvation  as  I  fly. 

There  was  no  palpitating  hope  here,  as  to  who  would 
'  gather  them  in '  at  the  last  day.  The  tone  of  the  song  was 
that  of  singers,  who  would  gather  themselves  in.  All  this 
took  place  at  the  Mansion  House  in  London.  Merchants 
who  had  taken  out  their  cheques  to  give  to  the  mission  put 
them  up  again  as  these  jocose,  irreverent  songs  proceeded. 
The  Egyptian  Hall  contained  many  of  the  first  Christian 
families  of  London.  How  could  they  be  expected  to  sub- 
scribe for  promoting  theological  teaching  of  this  description  ? 
There  may  be  poor  negroes  to  whom  this  revivalist  chatter 
has  charms  for  their  humble  minds,  but  these  Canadian 
coloured  men  and  women,  who  were  singers,  were  capable 
of  nobler  things,  and  gave  proof  how  well  they  could  sing 
songs  of  tenderness  and  moving  sentiment.  Why  were 
they  not  advised  to  sing  only  such  songs?  Christianity 
should  never  be  comic.  Yet  many  ministers  who  would 
not  commit  this  fault  themselves  will  countenance  it  in 
others  as  good  enough  for  the  multitude — betraying  their 
cause  thereby. 

But  consistency  is  more  difficult  than  decorum  in  piety. 
Criticism,  like  competition,  is  sharper  in  these  days,  when 
intelligence  is  more  general,  than  heretofore ;  and  the  pulpit 
orator  should  understand  that  his  hearers  find  it  hard  to 
believe  in  the  sincerity  of  any  man  who  tells  you  the  word 


l88  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

of  the  Lord  are  true,  and  who  knows  he  has  said,  'My 
people  shall  not  sow  and  another  reap,  they  shall  not  plant 
and  another  gather,'  yet  see  this  done  every  day,  and  they 
aid  and  abet  it  and  act  it  themselves.  The  pulpit  orator 
who  is  the  advocate  of  well-discerned  Christian  consistency 
in  social  life,  would  convince  and  conciliate  adversaries  as 
no  mere  rhetoric  can. 

A  good  voice  has  an  advantage  in  the  pulpit  as  well  as 
on  the  platform,  and  he  who  is  a  master  of  sense  as  well 
as  sound,  will  command  a  high  place  in  pubhc  opinion. 
But,  as  popular  education  goes,  voice  will  do  more  for  a 
preacher  than  matter,  since  a  man  who  can  be  heard  has  a 
chance  of  attention,  while  he  who  is  not  audible  has  none. 
Besides,  people  naturally  like  sounds  which  come  to  them 
of  their  own  accord,  and  need  no  effort  to  hear.  Moreover, 
a  hundred  persons  may  be  entertained  and  even  satisfied 
by  cadence  and  vocalisation  for  ten  who  will  be  capable  of 
intellectual  appreciation  of  what  is  said  and  whose  enjoy- 
ment depends  upon  its  purport. 

When  a  deputation  of  elders  were  sent  from  New  York 
to  Chicago  to  invite  Dr  Robert  Collyer  to  be  their  minister, 
they  had  but  one  misgiving, — '  Would  his  voice  fill  the 
place?'  'If  that  is  all,'  said  the  doctor,  *I  shall  do,  for 
my  voice  is  cramped  in  Chicago.'  His  voice  would  reach 
across  a  prairie.  If  John  the  Baptist  spoke  with  his  pleas- 
ant power  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  desert  was  crowded 
with  hearers.  Strong  sense  borne  on  a  strong  voice  is 
influential  speaking.  When  weighty  sense  sets  out  on  a 
weak  voice  it  falls  to  the  ground  before  it  reaches  distant 
hsteners. 

Preachers  have  always  had  trouble  with  drowsy  hearers 
of  the  word.  Even  Puritan  ministers  had  to  have  recourse 
to  '  woodchuck  '  contrivances  to  keep  their  congregations 
awake.  In  1646,  the  Rev.  Dr  Samuel  Whiting  was  minister 
of  Lynn,  Massachusetts.  One  Obadiah  Turner  kept  a 
journal  at  that  time.     The  following  is  an  extract :— 


PULPIT  ORATORY  1 89 

'1646,  June  ye  3d.  Allen  Brydges  hath  bin  chose  to 
wake  ye  sleepers  in  meeting,  and,  being  much  proud  of  his 
place,  must  needs  have  a  fox  taile  fixed  to  ye  end  of  a  long 
staff  wherewith  he  may  brush  the  faces  of  them  yt  will  have 
naps  in  time  of  discourse ;  likewise  a  sharp  thorn  wherewith 
he  may  prick  such  as  be  most  sounde.  On  ye  last  Lord  his 
day,  as  he  strutted  about  ye  meeting  house,  he  did  spy  Mr 
Tomkins  sleeping  with  much  comforte,  his  head  kept 
stea^Jie  by  being  in  ye  comer,  and  his  hand  grasping  ye 
rail.  And  soe  spying,  Allen  did  quickly  thrust  his  staff 
beGind  Dame  Ballard,  to  give  him  a  grievous  prick  on  ye 
hand.  WTiereupon  Mr  Tomkins  did  spring  up  much  above 
ye  floor,  and  with  terrible  force  strike  his  hand  against  ye 
wall,  and  also,  to  ye  great  wonder  of  all,  profainlie  exclaim 
in  a  loud  voice,  "  Curs  the  woochuch  ! "  he  dreaming,  as  it 
seemed,  yt  a  woochuch  had  seized  and  bit  his  hand.  But 
on  comeing  to  know  where  he  was,  and  ye  great  scandall 
he  had  committed,  he  seemed  much  abashed,  but  did  not 
speak.  And  I  think  he  will  not  soone  again  go  to  sleepe  in 
meeting.  Ye  women  may  sometimes  sleep  and  none  know 
it,  by  reason  of  their  enormous  bonnets.  Mr  Whiting 
does  pleasantli  say  yt  from  the  pulpit  he  doth  seem  to  be 
preaching  to  stacks  of  straw  with  men  jotted  here  and 
there  among  them.' 

Were  there  only  natural  art  in  reading  Scriptures  and 
collects  in  the  churches  there  would  be  no  need  of  an 
Allen  Brydges  the  Waker  to  walk  the  aisles. 

When  in  Washington,  one  of  my  delights  was  to  wander 
into  negro  churches.  There  was  one  church  of  coloured 
people,  well  to  do,  and  therefore  more  conventional  in  their 
worship.  There  was  another  and  humbler  church,  to  which 
I  preferred  to  go,  which  I  found  more  genuine,  and  there- 
fore more  entertaining  and  instructive. 

The  preacher  who  conducted  the  services  was  beyond 
the  middle  age,  and  of  sedate,  honest  aspect.  His  reading 
of  the  Scripture  was  the  most  religious  reading  I  heard  in 


190  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

America.  It  was  slow,  distinct,  impressive,  earnest,  now 
hushed,  now  loud,  now  a  cadence  of  alarm.  His  tone 
changed  with  the  sense,  with  natural  dramatic  passion,  as 
though  the  reader  comprehended  the  words  of  Heaven,  and 
was  reading  them  aloud  for  the  first  time.  It  was  not  like 
the  reading  I  had  heard  in  the  morning  in  the  President's 
church,  where  the  lessons  were  read  with  what  seemed  to 
me  a  cold  propriety,  in  which  all  the  tragic  pathos  of  the 
sacred  stor}'  was  frozen  in  the  preacher's  throat;  it  was 
earnestness  in  a  refrigerator. 

The  negro  sermon  was  in  keeping  with  the  reading.  The 
coloured  gospel  was  not  bad — peculiar,  but  seldom  ex- 
travagant. Its  discernment  and  candour  would  surprise 
any  English  hearer.  'My  brethren,'  said  the  preacher, 
'Christ  bid  us  love  our  enemies.  David  was  a  man 
after  God's  own  heart,  but  David  did  not  do  this.'  The 
preacher  said  this  merely,  and  left  it  as  a  thing  to  be  noted, 
and  not  to  be  explained  away.  'We  should  have  clean 
hands,'  he  remarked.  'Clean  hands  do  not  mean  hands 
clean  according  to  nature,  it  means  clean  souls.'  The 
conclusion  of  his  sermon  was  an  exhortation,  after  the 
manner  of  preachers,  but  in  the  vein  of  his  race.  'My 
brethren,  pray !  You  can  telegraph  to  God.  You  can 
telegram  right  away.  The  man  is  always  at  the  other 
end.  You  can  telegram  at  midnight,  the  man  at  the 
wheel  is  always  awake.  Always  awake,  my  brothers  and 
sisters.  Pray  !  brothers,  pray  !  The  office  is  always  open, 
the  man  is  always  at  the  wheel.  Brothers  and  sisters, 
telegram  right  away.'  The  preacher  had  got  his  figures 
of  speech  a  little  mixed.  He  was  thinking  of  the  ship 
when  he  spoke  of  the  '  man  at  the  wheel.'  Still,  he  man- 
aged his  simile  pretty  efi'ectively,  and  the  comparison 
between  the  speed  of  a  telegram  and  a  prayer  was  credit- 
able to  his  powers  of  illustration.  He  was  quite  under- 
stood. Some  laughed,  some  smiled,  some  made  audible 
assent,   especially   two    rows    of   dark   sisters    dressed    in 


PULPIT   ORATORY  I9I 

resplendent   blue    dresses — members    of    the    '  Society   of 
Moses.' 

In  days  when  only  written  books  existed,  those  able  to 
read  them  must  have  been  impressed  by  them  in  a  degree 
unknown  to  us.  Then  men  knew  less  than  now,  but  what 
they  knew  they  knew  better.  When  the  Bible  was  chained 
to  the  altar  of  the  Church,  crowds  must  have  hung  upon  the 
lips  of  the  reader  as  they  heard  for  the  first  time  what  they 
took  to  be  the  actual  words  of  God.  What  curiosity, 
impatience  and  astonishment  were  to  be  read  in  the 
faces  of  the  auditors !  What  awe,  what  reverence,  what 
pathos,  what  passion  there  would  be  in  the  tones  of  the 
reader !  If  preachers  had  the  original  belief  of  the 
coloured  reader  of  Washington,  and  were  to  read  as  he 
read,  churches  would  have  more  frequenters  than  they 
have  now.  It  is  recognised  now  that  there  is  all  the 
difference  in  the  world  between  a  man  feeling  not  that 
he  must  say  something,  but  that  he  has  something  to 
say.     This  is  as  true  in  the  pulpit  as  Parliament. 

The  Rev.  Dr  Joseph  Parker — who,  when  a  young  preacher, 
had  merely  a  good  presence,  a  good  voice,  facility  and 
fervour  of  speech — owes  all  his  distinction  to  himself,  by 
the  cultivation  of  strong  natural  powers.  He  has  given  it 
as  his  opinion,  that  '  until  there  is  better  hearing  there  will 
not  be  better  preaching.'  This  may  be  true  in  one  sense. 
No  preacher  would  think  of  delivering  the  same  quality  of 
sermon  before  auditors  of  known  inteUigence  which  he 
would  preach  to  a  congregation  not  known  to  have  any. 
Dr  Parker  can  hardly  intend  to  say  that  the  hearers  are  to 
raise  the  preacher,  whose  duty  it  is  to  raise  his  hearers.  Dr 
Parker  did  not  wait  for  this.  He  has  made  his  hearers.  It 
is  true  that  neither  orator  nor  preacher  can  go  much  further 
than  his  auditors  can  see;  for  when  he  is  out  of  sight 
his  influence  ceases.  A  preacher  is  a  leader,  but  he  cannot 
lead  unless  he  is  ahead  of  his  hearers.  When  his  subject  is 
bevond  their  range  of  knowledge  he  must  be  informing  and 


192  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

explanatory.  He  need  not  lower  the  truth,  but  raise  the 
understanding  of  those  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  If  that  be 
the  preacher's  endeavour  he  will  do  much  to  elevate  his 
hearers.  Once  I  was  a  guest  of  a  rector  for  whom  I  had 
personal  affection.  For  two  Sundays  I  sat  in  the  family 
pew.  His  sermons  had  no  relation  to  anything  in  the 
heavens  above  or  the  earth  beneath.  Yet  he  excelled  in 
his  knowledge  of  this  world.  Such  sermons,  however 
well  intended,  could  not  elevate  the  parochial  hearers 
in  a  century.  Dr  Parker  is  the  only  divine  who  has  advised 
— what  I  thought  I  was  alone  in  advising  years  ago,  namely 
— that  preachers  who  have  to  preach  twice  on  a  Sunday 
should  preach  a  sermon  of  the  great  orators  of  the  Church 
once  in  the  day,  and  reserve  their  unwearied  minds  for  their 
own  discourse.  The  sermons  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church 
and  orators  of  Dissent,  from  early  times  to  the  present, 
afford  a  mighty  field  of  selection.  Wealth  of  illustration, 
felicity  of  expression,  splendour  of  ideas,  and  passion,  lie 
there  mostly  unknown  to  preachers  and  almost  entirely  so 
to  modern,  busy,  narrow-minded,  uninformed  congregations 
— narrow-minded  because  ignorant  of  the  brilliant  sermons 
with  which  the  pulpit  orators  of  every  denomination  have 
enriched  and  delighted  the  minds  of  the  generation  in  which 
they  lived.  A  preacher  who  knows  how  to  read,  who  has 
good  discernment  of  relevant  passages,  judgment  not  to 
make  them  too  long,  and  preface  them  by  an  account  of 
who  the  preacher  was,  would  command  grateful  hearers, 
whom  he  would  reform,  gratify  and  refine.  A  great  play 
delights  as  often  as  it  is  well  acted ;  why  should  not  a  great 
sermon,  when  well  spoken?  Acquaintedness  with  great 
discourses  would  often  improve  the  preacher  as  well  as  his 
flock.     As  Butler  said  long  ago : — 

All  smatterers  are  more  brisk  and  pert 
Than  those  that  understand  an  art, 
As  little  sparkles  shine  more  bright 
Than  glowing  coals  that  give  them  light. 


PULPIT  ORATORY  I93 

Professor  Francis  William  Newman,  a  man  of  wider  infor- 
mation than  his  brother,  the  cardinal,  told  me  he  deemed 
it  beyond  his  power  to  preach  a  sermon  every  week — he 
who  never  spoke,  or  wrote  any  mean  or  incomplete  thing, 
measured  a  sermon  by  a  standard  of  his  own.  One  minister 
I  have  known,  who,  though  always  preaching,  was  always 
fresh,  was  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  His  ideas  were  inex- 
haustible. The  Rev.  Hugh  Price  Hughes's  definition  of 
the  essential  requisites  of  modern  preaching  are  '  simplicity, 
flexibility,  spontaneity  and  earnestness' — qualities  of  his 
own  preaching,  aided  by  a  voice  which  travels  like  a  bird 
over  the  audience  and  along  the  galleries.  Ward  Beecher 
had  the  four  qualities  above  named,  with  the  addition  of 
imagination ;  always  bright  and  often  poetical,  when  every 
sentence  was  tinted  with  a  hue  of  its  own,  as  is  the  case 
with  sermons  by  the  Rev.  Stopford  A.  Brooke,  which  a 
connoisseur  in  pulpit  orations  would  know  when  he  saw 
them  quoted,  though  no  preacher's  name  was  appended  to 
them. 

When  a  young  man,  I  heard  a  sermon  by  the  Rev.  William 
Knibb,  a  Baptist  minister,  whose  life  was  wasted  in  Jamaica, 
begin  with  these  words,  which  I  still  remember,  '  In  the 
days  when  infantine  Christianity  went  forth  to  battle  with 
the  full-grown  powers  of  superstition  and  darkness.'  His 
picturesque  sentences  continued  to  the  end,  his  unfaltering 
swiftness  and  distinctness  I  have  never  heard  exceeded. 

It  was  said  of  Morley  Punshon,  whom  I  sometimes  heard 
— a  preacher  of  renown  in  his  day — '  He  did  not  create ; 
he  did  not  inform ;  he  did  not  reason ;  he  did  not  criticise 
— he  set  forth  things  vividly.'  That  was  a  great  merit;  he 
held  the  field  but  did  not  extend  it. 

'  Parsons  of  York,'  as  he  was  called  (as  men  spoke  of  Jay 
of  Bath,  or  Hall  of  Leicester — preachers  who  are  re- 
membered as  no  one  else  of  those  towns  is)  in  later  years, 
whatever  may  have  been  the  case  earlier,  broke  up  his 
sentences  with  a  dry  hacking  cough  for  the  first   fifteen 

N 


194  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

minutes.  Still  the  sentences  went  on  their  coherent  way. 
Afterwards  he  suffered  no  interruption  when  the  stately . 
argument  of  his  oration  rose  high  before  the  hearer,  who 
remembered  it  long  after  as  though  he  had  seen  a  great 
sight.  It  was  in  Whitfield  Chapel,  London,  where  I  heard 
Parsons.  Though  unlike  his  famous  predecessor  in  that 
place,  those  who  heard  Parsons  left  him,  as  men  are  said  to 
have  left  Whitfield,  with  the  impression  that  they  had  heard 
a  master  of  the  pulpit. 

Sydney  Smith  complained  in  his  day  of  the  cold  decorum 
of  the  pulpit.  He  said :  *  The  great  object  of  modern 
sermons  is  to  hazard  nothing ;  their  characteristic  is  decent 
debility,  which  alike  guards  their  authors  from  ludicrous 
errors,  and  precludes  them  from  striking  beauties.  Every 
man  of  sense,  in  taking  up  an  English  sermon,  expects  to 
find  it  a  tedious  essay,  full  of  common-place  morality ;  and 
if  the  fulfilment  of  such  expectations  be  meritorious,  the 
clergy  have  certainly  the  merit  of  not  disappointing  their 
readers.' 

Since  his  day,  preachers  of  note  have  arisen  in  the  church. 
Neither  Kingsley,  nor  Maurice,  nor  Bishop  Magee  were 
conventional  in  their  preaching.  Still,  too  many  Church 
preachers  are  dull.  Many  of  them  are  happily  sent  abroad. 
I  have  heard  a  colonial  bishop  so  insipid  and  unimpres- 
sive of  speech,  that  he  could  not  convert  on  his  own  coast, 
where  hearers  had  the  advantage  of  knowing  his  tongue, 
much  less  those  to  whom  he  would  speak  in  a  language 
or  accent  foreign  to  them. 

Preaching  can  never  be  what  it  might  be,  could  the 
other  side  be  heard  after  the  discourse.  The  clergyman 
who  told  a  great  lawyer  that  his  was  a  fascinating  profession 
— was  answered,  '  Preaching  is  a  better  one,  as  the  opposite 
party  has  no  right  of  reply.'  Ten  lawyers  have  more  alert- 
ness, many-sidedness,  and  circumspection  than  a  hundred 
preachers.  They  know  their  learned  brother  lies  in  wait 
to  question  every  unprovable  statement  they  make.     The 


PULPIT  ORATORY  I95 

Catholic  clergy  knew  they  lost  weight  by  being  all  on  one 
side,  and  invented  the  Devil's  Advocate  that  the  other  side 
might  be  heard.  But  this  advocate  seldom  put  in  an 
appearance,  and  when  he  did  he  was  a  poor  substitute  for 
the  original,  if  his  abilities  are  rightly  reported.  Were  even 
a  second-hand  Satan  to  attend  every  Sunday,  preaching 
would  rapidly  improve  in  truth,  fairness  and  force.  Then 
a  hearer  would  seldom  have  to  say  of  a  preacher,  as  an 
observing  woman  did :  In  the  first  place  he  read  his 
sermon ;  in  the  second  he  did  not  read  it  well ;  and  in  the 
third  it  was  not  worth  reading. 

As  to  the  manner  of  preaching,  Dr  Leifchild's  rules  for 
preaching  would  ruin  any  preacher — 

Begin  low, 

Go  on  slow ; 

Rise  higher, 

And  take  fire ; 
When  most  impressed 
Be  self-possessed  ; 
At  the  end  wax  warm 
And  sit  down  in  a  storm. 

A  preacher  would  be  ridiculous  in  a  month  who  did  this 
t^vice  a  week.  Shakespeare's  advice  to  players  is  far  wiser. 
Warmth  will  vary  with  conviction,  and  energy  with  earnest- 
ness and  the  nature  of  the  subject.  The  close  of  a  discourse 
should  be  better  spoken  than  the  explanatory  parts.  It  may 
end  in  resounding  sentences,  or,  like  a  farewell  song  of  love, 
its  last  cadence  may  die  in  the  air,  leaving  an  impression 
which  will  never  fade  in  the  mind  of  the  hearer. 

If  a  preacher  wants  to  know  what  he  is  going  to  say — or, 
better,  wants  to  know  what  he  ought  to  say — let  him  write 
out  his  sermon,  not  for  the  purpose  necessarily  of  reading  it 
to  his  congregation,  but  for  the  purpose  of  reading  it  to 
himself.  He  will  never  discover  what  links  of  argument 
he  has  omitted  in  an  intended  extempore  speech — he  will 


196  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

never  become  aware  of  the  redundancies,  contradictions, 
undesigned  repetitions  and  incoherences  of  arrangement  — 
— until  he  writes  right  off  what  is  in  his  mind.  When  he 
has  revised,  pruned,  amplified  where  necessary,  and  given 
sequence  where  wanting,  let  him  make  marginal  notes  of  the 
purport  of  each  essential  passage,  and  preach  from  these 
notes.  Such  was  the  advice  of  Professor  Hall  to  an 
American  divinity  class  of  which  he  had  charge.  There  is 
no  better  rule  to  follow.  It  fixes  a  comprehensive  outline 
of  the  intended  sermon  in  the  mind.  Written  passages  and 
illustrations  will  recur  to  the  memory.  There  will  be  con- 
fidence, flexibility  and  coherence — audibility  and  earnest- 
ness will  do  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

PLATFORM  READING 

No  one  of  taste  would  prefer  a  sermon  or  speech,  poor  in 
quality  and  incoherent  in  texture,  extemporarily  delivered — 
to  a  discourse  or  oration,  compact  in  expression  and  strong 
in  sense — read  well.  It  is  bad  reading  which  brings  reading 
into  comparative  contempt  or  dislike.  Reading,  like  any 
other  form  of  oratory,  has  its  conditions,  which  are  seldom 
thought  of. 

Sometimes  a  speech  or  an  address  will  be  read  from  a 
quarto  book,  written  in  a  small  hand,  over  which  the  reader 
stumbles.  The  hearer  counts  the  turning  over  of  the 
monotonously-spoken  pages,  to  calculate  when  the  end  of 
his  misery  will  come,  when,  to  his  utter  dismay,  he  perceives 
that  the  pages  are  written  at  the  back,  and  when  the  end 
was  thought  to  be  in  sight,  the  dreadful  lecturer,  or 
speaker,  begins  to  turn  the  leaves  over  and  read  the  backs, 
when  the  period  of  the  hearer's  release  is  indefinitely 
postponed. 

I  have  seen  a  preacher  read  a  sermon  in  small,  badly- 
written,  interlined  pages,  which  no  one  who  once  took  his 
eyes  off  the  place  he  had  come  to,  could,  without  delay, 
find  it  again.  I  have  seen  a  prize  paper  reaa  from  a  small 
printed  pamphlet  which  did  not  permit  the  reader  once 
to  look  at  his  audience,  without  missing  a  sentence  or  two, 
and  so  rapidly  and  insipidly  was  it  spoken,  that  an  audience 
in  a  penitentiary  would   not   listen   to   it  to  the  end.     I 

197 


198  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

have  seen  a  Dean  read  an  address  in  minute  handwriting. 
He,  being  near-sighted,  had  to  hold  the  pages  close  to  his 
face.  All  the  auditors  could  see  was  a  bundle  of  white 
leaves  and  a  bald  head  behind  it,  and  the  voice  issuing 
from  the  rear  of  the  pages  was  so  indistinct  and  cadenceless 
that  the  words  were  all  swallowed  by  the  persons  three  rows 
before  him,  for  they  reached  no  further,  and  the  audience 
at  the  back  had  to  seek  from  those  in  front  a  second-hand 
report  of  what  was  supposed  to  have  been  said,  of  which  no 
one  was  sure. 

At  the  British  Association  I  have  seen  a  president  read 
his  inaugural  address  from  long  proof  slips,  just  as  the 
printer  sent  them.  The  president  had  to  ask  the  secretary 
for  his  address,  of  which  the  secretary  had  only  one  copy — 
and  that  he  could  not  find  when  wanted.  Nothing  could 
be  more  humiliating  to  president  or  audience  than  to  read 
to,  or  to  be  read  to,  from  printers'  slips,  which  take  all 
dignity  out  of  the  occasion,  even  if  the  reading  was  fairly 
spoken.  But  the  president,  being  a  professor,  despised 
emphasis,  inflection,  or  passion,  as  unphilosophical.  The 
audience  had  a  bad  time  of  it,  and  applauded  only  when 
the  address  ended,  and  because  it  had  ended.  Philo- 
sophers might  be  expected  to  do  these  things  better. 

University  reading  is,  as  a  rule,  more  insipid  than  clerical. 
The  professor's  object  is  to  say  in  a  paper  (when  he  reads 
one)  exactly  what  ought  to  be  known.  Students  bent  upon 
knowledge,  with  their  minds  already  occupied  with  the 
subject  submitted  to  them,  and  seeking  information  im- 
portant to  them — bend  a  willing  ear,  and  are  grateful  for 
the  ideas  they  want,  and  heed  not,  and  care  not,  how 
colourless  and  tame-toned  are  the  words  spoken.  Many 
professors,  as  I  have  seen,  when  they  come  before  the 
public  as  preachers  or  scientists,  will  deliver  their  message 
in  the  most  spiritless  manner  to  an  audience  ignorant  alike  of 
Its  matter  and  its  moment,  whom  they  inspire  not  only  with 
dislike  but  with  resentment  against  speaker  and  subject. 


PLATFORM   READING  199 

The  pulpit  or  platform  orator  who  cares  only  for  the 
judgment  of  the  few,  whose  attainments  give  weight  to  their 
opinions,  may  read  anyhow,  provided  he  has  ideas  which 
the  few  covet.  But  if  he  calls  together  a  miscellaneous 
audience,  or  connives  at  their  being  assembled,  and  does 
not  intend  to  entertain  or  instruct  them,  he  ought  to  be 
liable  to  indictment  for  obtaining  attention  under  false 
pretences.  Some  preachers  affect  not  to  read  their 
sermons;  but  they  do  it,  and  their  congregations  know 
it.  If  a  man  cannot  speak — in  pulpit  or  on  platform — 
from  notes  of  the  kind  described  in  the  last  chapter,  he 
had  better  read  openly;  and  if  done  properly  it  will  be 
eflfective. 

The  method  is  this.  After  writing  out  the  speech  or 
discourse,  twice  or  thrice  if  necessary,  read  it  aloud  to 
someone  whom  you  wish  to  interest  in  it.  A  reader  gets 
thereby  quite  a  new  idea  of  what  he  has  written.  If  any 
part  is  not  understood  by  the  listener,  that  part  must  be 
made  clear.  If  any  part  or  phrase  strikes  the  listener  as 
not  being  in  good  taste,  reconsider  it.  One  object  in  read- 
ing the  discourse  aloud  is  to  note  the  time  it  takes  to  read 
it  with  audibility.  If  it  occupies  an  hour  it  should  be 
abridged  until  it  can  be  easily  read  in  three-quarters  of  an 
hour.  That  allows  one  quarter  for  the  expansion  of  public 
reading,  which  will  be  slower,  fuller  in  tone,  and  allow  for 
pauses  between  new  paragraphs.  No  discourse,  as  a  rule, 
should  exceed  one  hour. 

When  the  whole  statement  intended  to  be  made  is  satis- 
factory as  to  terms  and  length,  it  should  be  copied  out  on 
large  note-sized  paper,  in  a  handwriting  sufficiently  bold  to 
be  easily  read  at  a  distance  from  the  eye.  The  initial  capital 
letters  should  be  print  capitals,  so  as  to  mark  clearly  the 
beginning  of  a  new  sentence.  Up  strokes  and  down  strokes 
should  be  short,  so  that  one  line  does  not  hang  down 
into  another,  nor  project  above,  causing  confusion  or 
entanglement  of  words.     The  paper  used  should  be  some- 


200  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

what  stiff,  so  that  one  page  can  be  easily  raised  by  itself. 
The  writing  should  be  on  one  side  only  The  speaker  or 
preacher  should  write  out  the  copy  himself.  He  will  know 
better  the  words  he  himself  has  formed,  and  become  so 
familiar  with  the  text  as  to  know  it  almost  by  heart.  Finally, 
he  should  underline  with  a  coloured  pencil  such  words  or 
sentences  on  which  the  emphasis  is  to  fall,  just  as  the  acting 
copy  of  a  play  is  underscored.  Then  the  speech  is  ready 
to  be  read.  When  the  time  comes  to  deliver  it,  the  pages 
should  be  held  in  one  hand,  and  by  a  careless  movement 
let  the  auditors  perceive  that  nothing  is  written  at  the  back, 
and  as  each  page  is  read  it  should  be  laid  on  a  table  at 
hand,  so  that  the  hearers  may  know  that  as  the  pages 
decrease  the  end  of  their  detention  draweth  nigh.  Now,  a 
speech  so  prepared  can  be  held  at  a  distance  from  the 
reader.  He  will  know  at  a  glance  the  contents  of  the  page, 
and  the  part  marked  for  emphasis  will  tell  him  the  import- 
ant words.  On  reading  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  he 
will  often  know  the  rest,  and  feel  himself  free  to  look  the 
audience  in  the  face  and  use  such  gestures  as  the  sentiment 
suggests.  Additions  or  explanations — amplifications  of 
phrases  he  may  find  needful,  and  illustrations  will  come 
into  his  mind — for  which  he  has  left  himself  time.  By 
holding  his  thumb  at  the  sentence  where  he  commenced  to 
interpolate,  he  can  come  back  instantly  to  the  place,  and 
thus  acquire  a  freedom  and  spontaneity  of  delivery  more 
effective  than  ordinary  extempore  speeches,  which  lack 
vigour,  relevance  and  brightness. 

The  Rev.  Mr  Bellew,  though  a  sonorous  and  eloquent 
preacher,  delighted  his  congregation  more  by  reading  ser- 
mons than  by  preaching  them.  Mr  J.  S.  Laurie,  in  his 
Training  of  Teachers,  says,  '  Reading  aloud,  in  any  sense 
other  than  the  mere  naming  of  vocables,  is  an  act  of  intel- 
ligence, and  an  act  requiring  an  even  higher  intelligence  as 
the  subject-matter  of  what  is  read  grows  in  subtlety  and 
complexity.     Even  with  the  help  of  more  disclipined  and 


PLATFORM    READING  201 

better-informed  minds,  very  few  of  the  middle  and  upper 
classes  can  read  in  a  style  that  satisfies  at  once  the  under- 
standing and  the  ear  of  a  cultivated  listener.  Probably  no 
accomplishment  is  more  conclusive  evidence  that  a  boy  has 
been  educated  than  the  power  of  reading  well.'  Good 
reading  requires  good  judgment  and  good  preparation,  as 
oratory  does.  This  means  trouble,  and  trouble  is  not  taken 
save  by  those  whose  aim  is  excellence.  I  remember  a 
writer  saying,  '  I  once  spent  the  night  with  a  clergyman,  an 
old  friend,  who  had  the  habit  of  reading  his  sermons.  I 
asked  him  why  he  did  so.  He  went  on  to  give  me  the 
reasons,  and  became  animated.  "  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  am 
tired  to-night,  but  I  have  been  very  much  interested  in 
what  you  said.  Nevertheless,  if  you  had  read  your  remarks 
I  should  have  gone  to  sleep.'"  That  was  because  the 
rector  was  a  mere  conventional  reader.  Had  he  read  his 
sermons  as  he  would  read  a  letter  to  his  family  giving  them 
information  of  a  legacy,  each  bequest  to  each  person  would 
be  read  with  congratulatory  emphasis,  and  none  would  go 
to  sleep. 

French  and  American  audiences  will  accept  written 
speeches.  The  French  read  like  an  oration.  The  speeches 
which  stirred  all  the  world  in  the  French  Convention  were 
written  and  read.  Some  Americans  abuse  the  privilege  of 
reading  in  the  Legislative  Chamber,  making  their  speeches 
too  long  for  any  human  purpose,  and  so  reading  them 
that  nobody  listens,  or  ought  to  listen  to  them.  The  French 
read  papers  and  make  their  addresses  often  too  long  for 
lasting  impression,  but  then  they  do  read  them  with  an 
almost  superhuman  animation. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

FIGURES   OF  SPEECH 

It  is  by  similes    that  ideas    are   made   vivid,   argument 
enlivened,  and  obscurity  made  clear.     The  term  above — 
*  Figures  of  Speech ' — is  used  in  the  sense  of  comparisons, 
similitudes,  symbols,  likenesses,  and  generally  such  descrip- 
tions of  things  in  which  the  imagination  discovers  an  in- 
structive resemblance  to  the  subject  to  be  explained.     A 
figure  of  speech  is  a  mirror  in  which  a  subject  is  unexpectedly 
reflected  in  a  new  light.     A  simile  is  the  comparison  of 
another  thing  to  the  one  in  question,  the  likening  of  two 
things  which,  though  differing  in  some  respects,  have  strong 
points  of  resemblance.     The  one  rule  being,  if  the  object  is 
to  exalt  a  subject,  to  make  a  noble  comparison.      If  the 
purpose  is  to  degrade  a  subject,  the  comparison  made  should 
serve  to  lower  it  in   the  reader's   estimation.     Errors  and 
oversights   in   these   respects   are  of  daily  occurrence.     A 
preacher  to  whom  I  often  listened  with  pleasure  in  days 
when   I   was  an  habitual  hearer  of  the  word,   one   day 
reproached    Christians   with    not   using    their    minds    for 
making   sure  of  the  grounds  of  their  convictions,  adding, 
that    they    put    out    their   thinking    as   people   did   their 
washing,   and  got   it   done   badly.      This   offended   many 
of    his    congregation,    for    some    of    them    could    think. 
The    preacher's    simile    implied     that    his     congregation 
had    dirty    ideas  —  for    that,    and    that    alone,    is    why 

202 


FIGURES   OF   SPEECH  203 

garments  are  sent  to  the  laundry.  The  laundress  does 
not  make  garments,  but  merely  cleans  them  ;  whereas,  what 
the  preacher — to  his  credit — wanted,  was  that  his  hearers 
should  form  ideas  of  their  own,  without  which  a  man  is 
mentally  naked  or  bedizened  in  second-hand  clothes,  and 
he  should  have  sought  a  simile  which  suggested  this.  The 
one  he  chose  did  not  touch  the  case.  The  congrega- 
tion did  not  suffer  from  dirty  ideas,  else  he  had  badly  in- 
structed them.  What  they  suffered  from  was  scantness  of 
ideas,  which  could  only  be  worthily  increased  by  their  own 
efforts. 

Some  time  ago  a  noble  lord,  who,  like  his  father  before 
him,  had  high  regard  for  Mr  Gladstone,  told  a  public 
meeting  of  Liberals  that  it  might  be  said  of  Mr  Gladstone 
in  the  words  of  Shakespeare  : — 

He  doth  bestride  this  narrow  world 
Like  a  Colossus  ;  and  we,  petty  men, 
Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  creep  about 
To  find  ourselves  dishonourable  graves. 

Now,  the  bestriding  man  referred  to  was  a  dangerous  tyrant. 
It  was  a  bad  compliment  to  compare  Mr  Gladstone  to  him. 
Then  it  follows  also  that  the  lesser  Liberals  are  'petty 
men,  who  creep  about  to  find  themselves  dishonourable 
graves.'  So  the  speaker  smote  Mr  Gladstone  and  all  his 
adherents  hip  and  thigh  by  one  simile,  of  whose  range  and 
application  he  could  have  given  no  thought.  Had  the 
speaker  compared  Mr  Gladstone  to  the  King  of  Brobdig- 
nag,  and  his  followers  to  men  of  good  but  lesser  build ;  or 
by  other  simile  which  suggested  that  Mr  Gladstone  was 
the  Saul  of  his  party— head  and  shoulders  above  any  of 
them — he  had  exalted  him  whom  he  intended  to  exalt,  and 
not  called  up  adverse  reflections.  It  may  serve  to  show 
with  what  circumspection  similes  should  be  employed  if 
I  point  out  that  the  last  one  I  have  given  is  open  to 
objection  on  a  political  platform — for  Saul  was  mad  some- 


204  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

times,  a  fact  which  a  quick  adversary  would  turn  to  good 
account. 

Not  long  ago  Lady  Henry  Somerset,  in  a  much-applauded 
address,  said  that  a  bear  leader  whom  she  saw  in  Switzer- 
land, told  her  that  when  he  wanted  the  bear  to  dance  he 
kept  pulling  the  string.  That  was  what  '  the  people  of 
England  must  do  with  their  leaders  in  respect  of  temper- 
ance, and  she  was  sure  they  would  dance.'  This  should 
have  been  said  when  the  reporters  had  left,  as  being  better 
suited  for  private  than  for  public  consumption.  To  tell 
public  men  you  consider  them  street  bears,  who  will  dance 
only  when  you  pull  the  string  round  their  necks,  is  to  do 
all  you  can  to  prevent  leaders  doing  anything  you  wish. 
It  sets  their  self-respect  against  you.  It  is  smart  speaking 
if  you  do  not  think  of  the  result.  Lady  Somerset  is  an 
engaging  lady,  and  if  she,  or  others  like  her,  pulled  the 
string,  no  doubt  there  would  be  dancing  if  the  dancers 
could  forget  that  she  thinks  them  '  bears.' 

There  is  an  Australian  weapon  called  a  boomerang, 
which,  when  thrown,  comes  back  and  hits  the  thrower. 
Beware  of  boomerang  arguments,  or  boomerang  similes. 
For  instance,  if  misled  by  pessimist  text  you  should  say 
all  men  are  corrupt,  your  opponent  might  say :  '  As  all 
men  are  so,  so  you  must  be.  Thank  you  for  the  admission 
of  your  conscious  rottenness,  of  which  it  did  not  occur  to 
me  to  accuse  you.'  That  was  the  reply  I  made  to  a  Dr 
Rowbotham  who  asked  me  to  assist  his  advocacy,  after 
declaring  on  a  London  platform  that  all  men  had  putrid 
principles.  I  thought  such  principles  did  not  require  aid 
in  development. 

Robert  Owen's  principles  have  often  been  described 
but  never  made  so  clear  as  by  citing  a  simile  of  Victor 
Hugo.  '  Men  are  like  nettles.  Cultivation  will  turn  them 
from  noxious  to  useful  plants.  There  are  no  bad  herbs 
or  bad  men;  there  are  only  bad  cultivators.'  This  is 
Robert  Owen's  philosophy  in  a  nutshell. 


FIGURES   OF    SPEECH  205 

If  kings  were  not  better  than  they  are  supposed  to  be, 
they  would  be  worse  than  they  are,  breathing,  as  they  do, 
the  air  of  fulsomeness.  Royalty  has  always  been  a  patient, 
and  at  times  a  greedy,  recipient  of  egregious  adulation.  It 
is  Macaulay,  I  think,  who  says  the  oratory  devoted  to  James 
I.,  on  his  progress  through  Scotland,  was  of  no  common 
cast.  Officials  who  addressed  him  at  the  various  towns  at 
which  he  arrived,  '  put  together  Augustus,  Alexander,  Trajan 
and  Constantine.  It  was  supposed  that  even  the  antipodes 
heard  of  his  courtesy  and  liberality ;  the  very  hills  and 
groves  were  said  to  be  refreshed  with  the  dew  of  his  aspect ; 
in  his  absence  the  citizens  were  languishing  gyrades,  in  his 
presence  delighted  lizards,  for  he  was  the  sunshine  of  their 
beauty.  At  Glasgow,  Master  Hay,  the  commissary,  when 
attempting  to  speak  before  him,  became  like  one  touched 
with  a  torpedo,  or  seen  of  a  wolf;  and  the  Principal  of  the 
University,  comparing  his  majesty  with  the  sun,  observed,  to 
that  luminary's  disadvantage,  that  King  James  had  been 
received  with  incredible  joy  and  applause,  whereas  a  de- 
scent of  the  sun  into  Glasgow  would  in  all  likelihood  be  ex- 
tremely ill  taken.  Hyperbole  was  not  sufficient — the  aid  of 
prodigies  was  called — a  boy  of  nine  years  old  harangued 
the  king  in  Hebrew,  and  the  schoolmaster  of  Linlithgow 
spoke  verses  in  the  form  of  a  lion.'  That  was  better  than  a 
good  deal  of  adulation  of  royalty,  which  is  often  presented 
in  the  form  of  an  ass.  When  literature  first  became 
common,  rhetoric  grew  tawdry,  and  degenerated  into  what 
Dr  Parker  calls  the  '  Berlin  wool  and  fancy  work '  style  of 
statement.     A  strong  simplicity  is  always  force. 

To  preserve  peace,  and  to  do  good,  is  a  dull  old  maxim 
of  morality.  Feltham  thus  enlivens  it  by  this  illustration  : — 
'When  two  goats  on  a  narrow  bridge  met  over  a  deep 
stream,  was  not  he  the  wiser  that  lay  down  for  the  other 
to  pass  over  him,  rather  than  he  that  would  hazard  both 
their  Hves  by  contending?  He  preserved  himself  from 
danger,  and  made  the  other  become  debtor  to  him  for  his 


206  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

safety.  I  will  never  think  myself  disparaged  either  by 
preserving  peace  or  doing  good.' 

Paine,  whom  I  have  heard  Ebenezer  Elliot  describe  as  the 
greatest  master  of  metaphor  he  had  known,  said  of  a  certain 
body  in  America,  who  professed  that  principle  was  higher 
than  interest,  were  nevertheless  'hunting  after  their  own 
advantage  with  a  step  as  steady  as  time,  and  an  appetite 
as  keen  as  death.'  Their  insatiableness  is  rendered  more 
evident  by  these  similes.  Describing  the  illuminated 
popularity  of  a  political  quack — one  Silas  Deene — Paine 
said,  *  He  went  up  like  a  rocket  and  came  down  like  the 
stick.'  Mirabeau,  when  asked  to  counsel  an  obstinate 
friend,  answered,  '  You  might  as  well  make  an  issue  in  a 
wooden  leg  as  give  him  advice.'  Emerson,  at  the  soiree  of 
the  Manchester  Athenaeum,  expressing  the  latent  strength 
of  Old  England,  said  it  '  had  still  a  pulse  like  a  cannon.' 
Speaking  elsewhere  of  the  freshness  of  the  style  of  Montaigne, 
Emerson  said  his  sentences  were  '  vascular  and  alive — if  you 
cut  them  they  would  bleed.'  The  Cork  Magazine  says,  that 
the  preface  of  Thomias  Davis  to  the  speeches  of  Curran  is 
in  some  parts  as  majestic  as  the  orations  which  it  prefaces ; 
in  others,  displaying  a  wild  pathos,  which  '  strikes  upon  the 
ear  hke  the  cry  of  a  woman.' 

Comparisons  are  implied  by  phrases.  An  instance  occurs 
in  Cardinal  Newman's  works,  where  he  says,  'Heresy  did 
but  precipitate  the  truths  before  held  in  solution.'  The 
allusion  is  chemical  and  a  happy  one.  Contempt  for  the 
men-millinery  of  literature  was  forcibly  expressed  by 
Mirabeau — '  My  style  readily  assumes  force,  and  I  have 
a  command  of  strong  expressions,  but  if  I  want  to  be  mild, 
unctuous  and  measured,  I  become  insipid,  and  my  flabby 
style  makes  me  sick.'  Dumont,  a  friend  of  Mirabeau's, 
recounting  his  own  editorial  experience  in  preserving  brevity 
and  a  wise  directness  in  his  journal,  says,  '  The  most  diffuse 
complained  of  our  reducing  their  dropsical  and  turgescent 
expressions.'     Grattan,  comparing  the  Irish  Parliament  to 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH  207 

a  human  career,  exclaimed,  *  I  have  sat  by  its  cradle  and  I 
followed  its  hearse.' 

In  the  Auditor,  Lord  Viscount  Barrington  was  described 
as  *  a  little  squirrel  of  State,  who  had  been  busy  all  his  life 
in  the  cage,  without  turning  it  round  to  any  human  purpose.' 
The  clearness  attained  by  such  similes  needs  no  explanation. 
Edward  Vansittart  Neale,  when  he  wished  to  show  how 
much  the  profits  of  productive  labour  exceed  those  of 
distribution,  likened  the  store  to  the  squirrel, — 

Which,  whether  he  turns  wood  or  wire, 
Never  gets  a  hair's-breadth  higher, 

while  the  workshop  has  unlimited  possibiUties  before  it.  It 
is  of  value  to  intercept  the  difference  between  wholesale 
and  retail  prices.  But  the  store  moves  between  those  two 
barriers.  Mr  Neale's  simile  made  clear  the  advantages  of 
labour  acting  without  limitation. 

When  Mr  Mould,  the  undertaker  in  Martin  Chuzzleivit, 
speaks  of  Shakespeare,  it  is  as  the  theatrical  poet  who 
was  *  buried '  at  Stratford.  But  it  matters  not  whence  the 
similes  are  drawn,  provided  they  are  appropriate  and  elevat- 
ing, which  was  not  the  case  in  the  sermon  preached  at 
Newgate  after  the  escape  of  Jack  Sheppard.  The  clergy- 
man discoursed  to  this  effect : — 

'  How  dexterously  did  he  pick  the  padlock  of  his  chain 
with  a  crooked  nail,  burst  his  fetters  asunder,  climb  up  his 
chimney,  wrench  out  an  iron  bar — break  his  way  through  a 
stone  wall,  make  the  strong  door  of  a  dark  entry  fly  before 
him,  reach  the  leads  of  the  prison,  fix  a  blanket  to  the  wall 
with  a  spike  stolen  from  the  chapel,  descend  to  the  top  of 
the  turner's  house,  cautiously  pass  downstairs,  and  make  his 
escape  at  the  street  door. 

'  I  shall  spiritualise  these  things.  Let  me  exhort  ye,  then, 
to  open  the  locks  of  your  hearts  with  the  nail  of  repentance; 
burst  asunder  the  fetters  of  your  beloved  lusts ;  mount  the 
chimney  of  hope ;  take  thence  the  bar  of  good  resolution ; 


208  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

break  through  the  stone  wall  of  despair,  and  force  the  strong- 
hold in  the  dark  entry  of  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ; 
raise  yourself  to  the  leads  of  divine  meditation;  fix  the 
blanket  of  faith  with  the  spike  of  the  Church ;  let  yourselves 
down  to  the  turner's  house  of  resignation  ;  descend  the 
stairs  of  humility.  So  shall  you  come  to  the  door  of  de- 
liverance from  the  prison  of  iniquity,  and  escape  from  the 
clutches  of  that  old  executioner  the  devil.' 

This  style,  once  popular,  might  divert  a  gaol  audience,  but 
would  not  be  thought  edifying  now.  Down  to  this  chaplain's 
days  this  was  thought  to  be  clever  composition.  The 
chaplain  ought  to  have  been  imprisoned  for  his  effort.  Its 
only  excuse  could  be  that  it  amused  his  gloomy  congre- 
gation. It  could  not  edify  them,  and  was  more  likely  to 
produce  ridicule  than  reverence. 

Prodigality  of  metaphors,  like  multitudes  of  superlatives, 
confound  meaning.  'It  is  an  idle  fancy  of  some,'  says 
Felton,  'to  run  out  perpetually  upon  similitudes,  con- 
founding their  subject  by  the  multitude  of  likenesses, 
and  making  it  like  so  many  things,  that  it  is  like  nothing 

at  all ! ' 

The  child,  when  he  first  learns  to  speak,  will  say  any- 
thing, thinking  he  accomplishes  much  in  continuing  to  talk. 
So  with  the  public  speaker  when  he  first  commences,  and 
so  with  the  early  efforts  of  the  young  writer.  When  he 
first  rises  above  the  level  of  plain  prose,  he  never  knows 
when  to  descend  to  the  earth ;  and  instead  of  finding  an 
elevation  whence  he  can  show  his  readers  a  wider  landscape 
and  new  objects,  he  think  he  does  enough  by  showing 
himself. 

Goodrich  relates  that  a  boy  being  rebuked  by  a  clergy- 
man for  neglecting  to  go  to  church,  replied  that  he  would 
go  if  he  could  be  permitted  to  change  his  seat.  '  But  why 
do  you  wish  to  change  your  seat?'  said  the  minister. 
'  You  see,'  said  the  boy,  '  I  sit  over  the  opposite  side  of 
the  tneeiing-house,  and  between  me  and  you  there's  Judy 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH  209 

Vicars  and  Mary  Staples,  and  half  a  dozen  other  women, 
with  their  mouths  wide  open,  and  they  get  all  the  best  of 
the  sermon,  and  when  it  comes  to  me  it's  pretty  poor 
stuff.' 

It  is  doubtful  whether  any  boy  ever  made  this  reflection. 
The  story  must  be  pointed  at  those  preachers  whose  voices 
are  confined  to  the  listeners  nearest  to  them.  Nevertheless, 
likening  the  sermon  to  something  to  be  eaten,  made  vivid  the 
disadvantage  of  not  being  able  to  hear  what  is  provided. 

A  resemblance  of  one  thing  to  another  is  often  cited 
in  argument.  It  is  then  called  an  analogy.  But  it  must 
be  remembered  that  an  analogy  is  not  an  argument,  only 
an  illustration.  No  two  different  things  can  be  alike  all 
through,  and  it  is  only  the  points  of  resemblance  cited 
which  should  be  mainly  noticed  in  reply. 

There  is  sometimes  an  argument  of  no  mean  force  in  a 
simile.  A  soldier,  sentenced  for  an  attempt  to  leave  his 
regiment  on  Indian  service,  said  in  his  defence,  'We  are 
not  all  bad  at  bottom,  but  we  have  at  times  fever  and  ague, 
and  then  the  heart  grows  faint  for  England,  and  we  have 
Europe  on  the  chest.'  That  soldier,  had  he  been  educated, 
had  been  a  great  rhetorician  who  would  have  convinced  in 
a  few  words. 

A  negro  woman,  though  possessing  a  scantier  vocabul- 
ary, can  be  more  vivid  of  speech  than  her  mistress : — A 
Washington  lady,  much  surprised  upon  receiving  notice 
from  her  dusky  cook  that  she  was  about  to  leave  her 
service,  in  order  to  be  married.  'Why,'  said  the  lady, 
'  I  did  not  even  know  you  had  an  admirer.'  '  Oh,  yes'm, 
for  some  time.'  '  Who  is  it,  Mary  ? '  *  Don't  you  'member, 
Miss  Lissie,  that  I  'tended  a  fune'l  'bout  two  weeks  ago  ? 
It's  the  corpse's  husband  ! ' 

In  using  figures  of  speech  care  must  be  taken  not  to 
change  the  simile  in  an  incongruous  way.  There  is  the 
well-known  American  example  of  the  orator  who,  discover- 
ing the  artfulness  of  an  opponent,  exclaimed,  '  I  smell  a  rat 


210  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

I  see  it  floating  in  the  air — I  nip  it  in  the  bud.'     In  two 

sentences  he  converted  the  rat  into  a  bird  and  a  flower. 
The  Irish  have  a  gift  for  absurd  similes,  which  are  excus- 
able in  them  because  of  the  humour  in  which  they  excel. 
As  when  Sir  Boyle  Roche  in  affirming  his  loyalty  said,  '  I 
stand  prostrate  before  the  Throne.'  It  was  an  Hibernian 
prophet  who  announced — 

To-night's  the  day  (I  state  it  with  great  sorrow) 
When  all  of  us  will  be  blown  up  to-morrow. 

But  it  was  an  English  cleric  of  confused  memory  who 
told  his  congregation  that  '  sorrow  may  endure  for  a  joy  but 
night  cometh  in  the  morning.'  'My  brethren,'  said  an 
aspiring  young  preacher,  '  such  a  man  as  I  have  described 
is  like  the  captain  of  a  crewless  vessel  on  a  shoreless  sea. 
Happy  would  such  a  man  be  to  bring  his  men  to  land.' 
There  was  a  glamour  of  imagination  in  these  words,  and  it 
was  only  afterwards  that  the  hearers  reflected  that  a  crew- 
less  vessel  had  no  men,  and  that  on  a  shoreless  sea  there 
was  no  land  to  put  them  on.  These  oratorical  aberrations 
are  confined  to  no  country,  though  more  frequent  in  some 
than  others.  It  was  only  the  other  day  that  Herr  Rickhert 
taunted  the  German  Ministry,  saying,  'We  hear  nothing 
upon  the  Ministerial  benches,  nothing  but  profound  silence.' 
This  could  not  be  better  said  in  Dublin. 

A  practical  design  of  these  chapters,  now  nearing  their 
close — which  the  reader  will  be  glad  to  perceive — is  to 
call  into  life  the  latent  power  for  excellence  that  every  man 
has,  and  to  guard  him  against  the  easy  errors  into  which 
one  inexperienced  or  uninformed  may  fall.  Errors  are  for- 
given on  their  first,  or  even  second  committal,  but  the  third 
time  they  cause  distrust.  At  Muzart  Pass,  over  the  Tian 
Shan  Range,  a  marble  monument  bears  this  inscription  : — 

*  He  who  comes  this  way  once  may  be  pardoned,  as  not 
knowing  what  he  is  doing.     He  who  comes  twice  is  a  fool 
He  who  comes  a  third  time  is  hopeless  as  a  Kaffir.' 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH  211 

The  reader  of  the  maxims  of  the  preceding  pages  may 
be  desirous  of  illustrating  his  meaning,  when  necessary, 
by  some  apt  figure  of  speech.  If  he  does,  he  may  make 
useful  things  agreeable  and  dark  things  clear.  In  time 
he  will  find  it  as  easy  as  dullness,  and  more  entertaining 
to  others.  But  he  must  exercise  taste,  relevance  and 
circumspection,  or  he  will,  as  Uncle  Eben  observes,  '  after 
toiling  up  the  stairway  of  fame,  slide  down  the  bannister 
into  obscurity.' 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

POETRY   IN   RELATION   TO   RHETORIC 

All  the  public  speaker  necessarily  has  to  do  with  poetry  is 
to  read  it,  or  speak  it  well.  And  he  will  be  more  likely  to 
do  this  effectively  if  he  knows  that  what  he  cites  is  poetry, 
or  at  least  so  feUcitous  in  expression  as  to  make  vivid  the 
idea  he  wishes  to  enforce.  To  move  men  to  speech  it  is 
well,  as  we  have  seen,  that  the  speaker  should  know  their 
nature.  For  human  nature  differs  in  different  places  as 
cUmate  does.  Did  not  Dr  Angus  Smith  show  that  there 
are  more  than  nineteen  distinct  climates  in  London.  There 
are  more  than  nineteen  distinct  orders  of  men.  How  else 
could  there  be  so  many  distinct  sects  ?  One  man  believes 
in  that  which  to  another  is  absolutely  incredible.  In  every 
town  and  village  the  nature  of  men  is  of  a  different  texture. 
Doubtless  there  are  general  features  in  which  humanity 
agrees.  But  if  the  object  is  to  show  that  those  who  would 
master  human  nature  had  better  study  it — the  speaker  may 
show  its  strange  moods  by  quoting  Mr  Lecky's  lines  on  one 
whose  career  was  inscrutable  to  his  friends, — 

What  was  the  charm  that  wrought  the  spell, 

None  but  himself  could  see  ; 
There's  a  door  in  every  heart  that  leads  to  hell, 

Could  we  but  find  the  key. 

Let  us  hope  this  is  not  true  ;  but  true  or  not  they  are  strik- 
ing lines,  and  vividly  call  attention  to  the  unexpected 
characteristics  of  human  nature. 

212 


POETRY  IN  RELATION  TO  RHETORIC    213 

Of  great  poets  there  are  too  few,  and  of  minor  poets  too 
many — some  say.  But  this  is  not  a  good  judgment — being 
unfair  to  the  minor  rhymers,  as  though  they  were  per- 
manently inferior ;  whereas,  the  great  poet  was  a  minor  one 
once,  and  some  of  them  were  very  unpromising  minors. 
In  his  '  Hours  of  Idleness '  Byron  gave  no  foretaste  of  the 
quahties  of  energy  and  fire  which  afterwards  astonished  the 
world.  No  poemx  ever  opened  with  more  enchanting  lines 
than  *  Endymion,'  whose  first  words  were — 

A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  for  ever  ; 

Its  loveliness  increases  ;  it  will  never 

Pass  into  nothingness :  but  still  will  keep 

A  bower  quiet  for  us,  and  a  sleep 

Full  of  sweet  dreams  and  health  and  quiet  breathing. 

The  critics  of  Keats's  day  saw  nothing  in  this  as  a  presage 
of  power,  but  the  power  was  there.  It  was  the  youthful 
muse  of  Tennyson  which  produced  the  hnes — 

The  roar  of  the  wind  is  around  me, 
The  leaves  of  the  year  at  my  feet. 

It  was  only  W.  J.  Fox  who  saw  the  poet  in  them. 

The  reader  might  not  take  for  poetry  the  following  lines 
on  a  friend  no  more,  but  he  would  not  make  much  of  a 
mistake  if  he  did  : — 

He  has  forgotten  the  pathway  to  our  door, 
Something  has  gone  from  nature  since  he  died. 

If  the  Student  looks  for  newness  of  thought  and  force 
of  expression,  he  will  meet  with  passages  which  may  be 
successfully  quoted. 

Some  say  if,  when  you  have  written  verses,  you  find  you 
can  better  express  the  chief  idea  in  prose,  your  verses  are 
not  poetr}'.  That  does  not  follow,  because  there  is  good 
poetry  in  prose.  Carlyle,  for  instance,  was  a  poet  who 
wrote  in  prose  what  he  was  entirely  unable  to  express  in 
verse.     If,  however,  a  man  who  has  made  verses  finds  he 


214  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

can  better  express  himself  in  prose,  he  should  put  his  ideas 
into  prose.  If  the  writer  of  verses,  which  he  takes  to  be 
poetry,  would  write  them  in  prose  he  would  often  be 
undeceived. 

It  is  not  easy  to  give  a  definition  of  poetry  which  shall 
enable  everyone  to  detect  it  when  he  meets  it.  But  an 
ordinary  person  who  reads  two  stanzas  of  Rossetti's  *  Blessed 
Damozel '  would  be  arrested  by  its  beauty  of  expression  and 
splendour  of  imagination  : — 

It  was  the  rampart  of  God's  house 

That  she  was  standing  on  ; 
By  God  built  over  the  sheer  depth 

The  which  is  space  begun  ; 
So  high,  that  looking  downward  thence 

She  scarce  could  see  the  sun. 

It  lies  in  heaven,  across  the  flood 

Of  ether,  as  a  bridge. 
Beneath,  the  tides  of  day  and  night 

With  flame  and  darkness  ridge 
The  void,  as  low  as  where  this  earth 

Spins  like  a  fretful  midge. 

There  are  astronomical  and  dynamical  objections  to  this 
vision,  but  Burke  would  have  given  it  a  place  in  his 
unfinished  book  on  the  Subliate  and  Beautiful. 

A  passage  of  no  mean  beauty  occurs  in  Shelley's  'Pro- 
metheus ' : — 

It  seems  to  float  ever,  for  ever. 
Upon  that  many-winding  river, 
Between  mountains,  woods,  abysses, 
A  paradise  of  wildernesses  ! 
Till  one  in  slumber  bound 
Borne  to  the  ocean,  I  float  down,  around. 
Into  a  sea  profound,  of  ever-spreading  sound. 

The  melody  of  the  language  alone  would  inform  the  reader 
ihat  he  was  in  the  hands  of  a  master. 

Sometimes  a  poet  does  not  know  his  own  beauty  of 
expression,  and  changes  a  term  of  beauty  for  one  without  it, 
as  when  Tennyson,  having  written  of  Prince  Albert  dead — 


POETRY   IN    RELATION   TO   RHETORIC  21$ 

Thou  silent  father  of  our  kings  to  be, 

altered  it  into — 

Thou  noble  father  of  our  kings  to  be. 

'Silent'  father  has  the   dignity  which  no  one  challenges. 
'  Noble '  father  is  controversial. 

It  is  good  practice  to  write  verse.  He  who  attempts  it 
may  not  become  a  poet,  but  he  will  learn  more  of  the 
terms,  variety  and  infinite  meanings  of  his  own  tongue,  or 
of  any  other  tongue  he  uses,  than  by  any  other  means. 
Wordsworth,  who  was  a  master  in  song,  wrote  once  to  Sir 
William  Hamilton  : — 

'  Again  and  again  I  must  repeat  that  the  composition  of 
verse  is  infinitely  more  of  an  art  than  men  are  prepared  to 
believe,  and  absolute  success  in  it  depends  upon  innumer- 
able 7nim{ticB,  which  it  grieves  me  you  should  stoop  to 
acquire  a  knowledge  of.  ^Milton  talks  of  pouring  "  easy  his 
unpremeditated  verse."  It  would  be  harsh,  untrue  and 
odious  to  say  there  is  anything  like  cant  in  this,  but  it  is 
not  true  to  the  letter  and  tends  to  mislead.  I  could  point 
out  500  passages  in  Milton  upon  which  labour  has  been 
bestowed,  and  twice  500  more  on  which  labour  would  have 
been  serviceable.' 

Matthew  Arnold,  when  he  is  not  contemptuous,  is  in- 
structive. If  his  sweetness  was  intermittent,  he  did  not 
lack  light.  '  Homer's  movement,  he  says,  is  a  flowing, 
a  rapid  movement.  Milton's  is  a  laboured,  a  self-retard- 
ing movement.  Milton  charges  himself  so  full  with 
thought,  imagination,  knowledge,  that  his  style  will  hardly 
contain  them.  He  is  too  full-stored  to  show  us  in  much 
detail  one  conception,  one  piece  of  knowledge ;  he  shows 
it  to  us  in  a  pregnant,  allusive  way,  and  then  presses  on 
to  another.  Homer  is  quite  different;  he  says  a  thing 
and  says  it  to  the  end,  and  then  begins  another,  while 
Milton   is   trying   to   press   a    thousand   things   into    one. 


2l6  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

So  that  in  reading  Milton  you  never  lose  the  sense 
of  laborious  and  condensed  fulness ;  in  reading  Homer 
you  never  lose  the  sense  of  flowing  and  abounding  ease.' 

Homer  was  a  poet  of  life,  Tennyson  was  mainly  a  poet 
of  mind.  Homer  sang  of  actions,  Tennyson  of  ideas.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  has  more  of  the  Homeric  quality  than  any 
other  poet  or  romance  writer  of  renown.  Poets  and  writers 
of  that  mould  are  better  to  quote  in  an  oration  than  a 
metaphysical  poet.  Byron  is  better  for  the  platform  than 
Shelley.  There  are  exceptions,  of  course,  among  the 
kaleidoscopic  children  of  song.  All  are  human  at  times. 
Even  Browning,  who  requires  a  Society  to  explain  him, 
has  splendid  flashes  of  nature,  as  witness  these  lines  : — 

All  the  breath  and  the  bloom  of  the  year  in  the  bag  of  one  bee  : 

All  the  wonder  and  wealth  of  the  mine  in  the  heart  of  one  gem 
In  the  core  of  one  pearl  all  the  shade  and  the  shine  of  the  sea : 
Breath  and  bloom,  shade  and  shine — wonder,  wealth,  and — how 
far  above  them — 

Truth,  that's  brighter  than  gem, 
Trust,  that's  purer  than  pearl — 
Brightest  truth,  purest  trust  in  the  universe — all  were  for  me 
In  the  kiss  of  one  girl. 

Of  prose  which  has  all  the  qualities  of  poetry  except  the 
metrical  form,  the  reader  may  find  in  a  passage  of  Professor 
Heeren : — 

'  Persepolis  rises  above  the  deluge  of  years.  Time  sadly 
overcometh  all  things,  and  is  now  dominant,  and  sits  upon 
a  sphinx  and  looketh  unto  Memphis  and  Old  Thebes; 
while  his  sister  Oblivion  reclineth  semi-sensuous  on  a 
pyramid,  making  puzzles  of  Titanian  erections,  turning  old 
glories  into  dreams.  History  sinketh  beneath  her  cloud. 
The  traveller,  as  he  passeth  amazedly  through  these  deserts, 
asketh  of  her  who  builded  them  ?  She  mumbleth  some- 
thing, but  what  it  is  he  knoweth  not.' 

The  poet  hath  not  often  excelled  Heeren.  Instance 
Bryant  on  the  same  subject : — 


POETRY  IN   RELATION   TO  RHETORIC         21/ 

Thou  unrelenting  Past ! 
Strong  are  the  barriers  round  thy  darlc  domain, 

And  fetters  sure  and  fast 
Hold  all  that  enter  thy  unbreathing  reign. 

Mere  rhyme  often  assists  the  memory,  and,  if  nervous,  it 
may  better  strike  the  understanding  than  prose.  Of  this 
quality  are  some  old  lines  on  Feasting  and  Fasting,  begin- 
ning thus : — 

Accustom  early  in  your  youth 

To  lay  embargo  on  your  mouth  ; 

And  let  no  rarities  invite 

To  pall  and  glut  your  appetite  ; 

But  check  it  always,  and  give  o'er 

With  a  desire  of  eating  more ; 

For  where  one  dies  from  inanition 

A  thousand  perish  by  repletion. 

There  is  a  mental  repletion  also  enervating  to  intellectual 
health. 

Dr  Johnson,  who  had  prose  in  his  blood,  sometimes 
put  it  into  verse,  and  though  not  poetry  it  was  near  to  it 
by  its  vigour  and  sense.  In  the  prologue  he  wrote  for 
Garrick  on  the  opening  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane, 
describing  the  reign  of  pedantry  and  degeneracy  of  the 
stage,  he  exclaims  : — 

Then,  crushed  by  rules,  and  weaken'd  as  refined, 
For  years  the  power  of  tragedy  declined  ; 
From  bard  to  bard  the  frigid  caution  crept, 
Till  declamation  roar'd  whilst  passion  slept : 
Yet  still  did  virtue  deign  the  stage  to  tread. 
Philosophy  remained  though  nature  fled. 

Pope,  the  greatest  of  our  argumentative  poets,  has  no 
passage  more  striking  than  one  logical  stanza  in  Lord 
Byron's  'Childe  Harold.'  It  has  vividness,  felicity  of 
phrase  and  condensation.  It  would  be  impossible  to  say 
the  same  things  in  prose  in  such  few  words. 

What  from  the  barren  being  do  we  reap  ? 
Our  senses  narrow  and  our  reason  frail. 


2l8  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Life  short,  and  truth  a  gem  that  loves  the  deep, 

And  all  things  weighed  in  custom's  falsest  scale ; 

Opinion  an  omnipotence,  whose  veil 
Mantles  the  earth  with  darkness,  until  right 

And  wrong  seem  accidents,  and  men  grow  pale 
Lest  their  own  judgments  should  become  too  bright, 
And  their  free  thoughts  be  crimes  and  earth  have  too  much  light. 

Another  example,  though  devoid  of  the  range  of  insight 
manifest  in  Byron's  lines,  is  the  fine  sonnet  of  Blanco 
White.  As  a  poetic  imaginative  argument  for  a  future  hfe 
it  is  unsurpassed.  Literature  has  no  argument  so  brilliant 
that  I  can  recall : — 

Mysterious  night !     When  our  first  parent  knev/ 

Thee  from  report  divine,  and  heard  thy  name, 

Did  he  not  tremble  for  this  lovely  frame. 
This  glorious  canopy  of  light  and  blue  ? 
Yet,  'neath  a  curtain  of  translucent  dew, 

Bathed  in  the  rays  of  the  great  setting  flame, 

Hesperus  with  the  host  of  heaven  came. 
And  lo  !  creation  widened  in  man's  view. 
Who  could  have  thought  such  darkness  lay  conceal'd 

Within  thy  beams,  O  Sun  ?     Or  who  could  find, 
Whilst  fruit,  and  leaf,  and  insect  stood  reveal'd, 

That  to  such  countless  orbs  thou  mad'st  us  blind  ? 
Why  do  we,  then,  shun  Death  with  anxious  strife  ? 
If  Light  conceals  so  much — wherefore  not  Life  ? 

For  passages  of  point  and  fire  the  orator  must  go  to  the 
poets.     One  of  them  exclaims  : 

Hereditary  bondsmen,  know  ye  not 

Who  would  be  free  themselves  must  strike  the  blow. 

An  agitator  may  say  that  without  much  risk.  That  means 
numbers  must  agree  to  act  all  together,  and  numbers  are 
not  given  to  agree;  and  if  numbers  do  agree  they  must 
keep  one  counsel  if  they  are  to  succeed,  and  numbers  can 
seldom  be  depended  upon  to  keep  one  counsel.  Shakespeare 
supplies  much  more  dangerous  fines  : — 


POETRY   IN    RELATION    TO    RHETORIC         219 

Every  bondsman  in  his  own  hands 
Bears  the  means  to  cancel  his  captivity. 

Let  any  man  beware  how   he   tells   this,   to   whom,   and 
where. 

The  Talmud  says,  '  Life  is  but  a  shadow,  not  of  a  house, 
nor  of  a  tree,  but  of  a  bird  passing  overhead;  another  moment 
both  bird  and  shadow  are  gone.'  The  simile  is  well  con- 
ceived. For  variety  and  felicity  of  figure  upon  this  subject 
nothing  known  to  me  excels  the  following  poem,  ascribed 
to  Dr  Donovan,  who  made  it,  or  took  it  from  an  old  Irish 
manuscript.  The  reader  will  see  that  the  Irish  poet  is  a 
logician — a  rare  thing  in  poets — and  sums  up  each  stanza 
at  its  conclusion,  and  each  simile  is  as  it  were  proven. 

Like  to  a  damask  rose  you  see, 

Or  like  a  blossom  on  a  tree, 

Or  like  the  dainty  flower  in  May, 

Or  like  the  morning  to  the  day, 

Or  like  the  sun,  or  like  the  shade  ; 

Or  like  the  gourd,  which  Jonah  made  : 

Even  such  is  man,  whose  thread  is  spun, 

Drawn  out  and  out,  and  so  is  done. 

The  rose  withers,  the  blossom  blasteth, 
The  flower  fades,  the  morning  hasteth, 
The  sun  sets,  the  shadow  flies. 
The  gourd  consumes,  the  man — he  dies. 

Like  to  the  grass  that's  newly  sprung, 

Or  like  the  tale  that's  new  begun, 

Or  like  the  bird  that's  here  to-day, 

Or  like  the  pearled  dew  in  May, 

Or  like  an  hour,  or  like  a  span, 

Or  like  the  singing  of  the  swan  : 

Even  such  is  man,  who  lives  by  breath. 

Is  here,  now  there,  in  life  and  death. 

The  grass  withers,  the  tale  is  ended. 
The  bird  is  flown,  the  dew's  ascended, 
The  hour  is  short,  the  span  not  long, 
The  swan's  near  death,  man's  life  is  done. 

Like  to  the  bubble  in  the  brook. 
Or  in  a  glass  much  like  a  look, 


220  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

Or  like  the  shuttle  in  weaver's  hand, 

Or  like  the  writing  on  the  sand, 

Or  like  a  thought,  or  like  a  drean., 

Or  like  the  gliding  of  the  stream  : 

Even  such  is  man,  who  lives  by  breath, 

Is  here,  now  there,  in  life  and  death. 
The  bubble's  out,  the  look  forgot, 
The  shuttle's  flung,  the  writing's  blot, 
The  thought  is  past,  the  dream  is  gone, 
The  waters  glide,  man's  life  is  done. 

Like  to  an  arrow  from  a  bow, 

Or  like  swift  course  of  water  flow  : 

Or  like  the  time  'twixt  flood  and  ebb, 

Or  like  the  spider's  tender  web. 

Or  like  a  race,  or  like  a  goal. 

Or  like  the  dealing  of  a  dole  : 

Even  such  is  man,  whose  brittle  state 

Is  always  subject  unto  fate. 

The  arrow  shot,  the  flood  soon  spent, 
The  time  no  time,  the  web  soon  rent. 
The  race  soon  run,  the  goal  soon  won, 
The  dole  soon  dealt,  man's  life  soon  done. 

Like  to  the  lightning  from  the  sky, 

Or  like  a  post  that  quick  doth  hie, 

Or  like  a  quaver  in  a  song, 

Or  like  a  journey  three  days  long. 

Or  like  the  snow  when  summer's  come, 

Or  like  a  pear,  or  like  a  plum  : 

Even  such  is  man,  who  heaps  up  sorrow, 

Lives  but  this  day,  and  dies  to-morrow. 
The  lightning's  past,  the  post  must  go, 
The  song  is  short,  the  journey  so. 
The  pear  doth  rot,  the  plum  doth  fall, 
The  snow  dissolves,  and  so  must  all. 

The  student  in  search  of  similes  may  take  up  a  basket 

full  from  this  unrivalled  poem. 

Nobody  could  mistake  the  hand  of  the  poet,  in  strength 

of  conception  and  unchangeableness  of  terms,  in  Landor's 

lines ; — 

Alas  I  how  soon  the  hours  are  over. 
Counted  us  out  to  play  the  lover 


POETRY   IN    RELATION   TO   RHETORIC         221 

And  how  much  narrower  is  the  stage 
Allotted  us  to  play  the  sage. 
But  when  we  play  the  fool,  how  wide 
The  theatre  expands  I     Besides, 
How  long  the  audience  sits  before  us  ; 
How  many  plaudits  !     What  a  chorus  ! 

But  of  this  the  present  writer  as  well  as  the  student  may 
take  warning. 


CHAPTER    XXX 

STYLE    EXPLAINED 

Style  is  the  manner  in  which  ideas  are  expressed.  Style 
is  not  in  the  mind — it  is  the  mind.  As  Dr  Johnson  said  of 
the  wits  of  Charles  the  Second's  reign  : — 

Themselves  they  studied — as  they  felt  they  writ. 

A  bitter  fountain  cannot  give  forth  sweet  water.  According 
to  the  quality  of  the  information  in  the  treasure  house  of 
the  understanding  will  be  the  style — scant  or  plentiful  in 
words,  clear  or  confused  in  expression,  vivacious  or  dull, 
yielding  ideas  leaden  or  golden,  gems  of  paste  or  diamonds 
rich  and  rare.  When  a  man  can,  like  Cobbett,  talk  with 
his  pen,  his  style  is  disclosed.  It  is  said  of  John  Morley 
that  the  chief  features  of  his  style  are  'perfect  sanity 
and  reasonableness.'  Its  special  charm,  'simplicity  and 
courtesy.'  His  hold  upon  his  reader  is  his  scholarship 
and  sincerity.'  He  has  'urbanity  and  wit,'  still  rare  in 
literature. 

Style  is  a  quality  peculiar  to  the  writer  or  speaker,  and 
where  it  has  excellence  not  time  itself  can  efface  its  charm. 
Facts  may  be  forgotten,  learning  grow  commonplace,  truths 
dwindle  into  mere  truisms,  but  a  magnificent  style  can  never 
lose  its  freshness.  Someone  has  said,  '  For  style,  even  more 
than  for  his  wonderful  erudition,  is  Gibbon  admired ;  and 
the  same  quality,  and  that  alone,  renders  Hume  a  popular 
historian  of  England,  in  spite  of  his  imperfect  learning,  the 

222 


STYLE   EXPLAINED  223 

untrustworthiness  of  his  statements  in  matters  of  fact,  and 
the  anti-popular  caste  of  his  opinions.'  Method,  perspicuity, 
brevity,  variety,  harmony,  are  indeed  separable  from  sense, 
but  no  combination  of  such  qualities  will  give  life  to  a  book 
without  sense.  They  are  but  the  auxiliaries  of  meaning, 
not  the  substitutes  for  it. 

If  any  one  would  know  what  style  is  not  and  how  it  is 
not  acquired,  let  him  read  an  article  on  Dickens  in  a 
quarter  where  there  should  be  guidance,  the  Dublin  Uni- 
versity Magazi?ie,  in  or  about  1865.     It  said: — 

'  Dickens  has  achieved  a  great  thing— he  has  created  a 
style.  The  singular  circumstances  in  this  case  is  that,  by 
careful  study  of  previous  styles,  by  imitation  of  them,  this 
author  has  produced  out  of  the  heterogeneous  elements  a 
compound  essentially  differing  from  all  its  component  parts, 
and  claiming — claiming  justly — the  high  merit  of  being 
original.  That  such  a  result  should  follow  such  a  course 
ought  to  encourage  writers  who  aim  at  true  celebrity  to 
adopt  this  humble  and  painstaking  initiatory  system.' 

Dickens  would  smile  at  this  attempt  to  made  a  literary 
alchemist  of  him,  as  one  fusing  all  sorts  of  styles  in  his 
crucible  of  composition,  and  bringing  out  quite  a  new 
metal.  Daily  life  furnished  him  with  materials ;  obser- 
vation, originality  of  thought  and  humorous  imagination 
did  the  rest — humour  combined  them  and  made  the 
style. 

Tindal  said  of  Pitt's  first  speech  that  '  it  was  more  orna- 
mental than  the  speeches  of  Demosthenes  and  less  diffuse 
than  those  of  Cicero.'  '  That  it  should  have  been  so  often 
quoted,'  says  Macaulay,  '  is  proof  how  slovenly  most  people 
are  content  to  think.  It  would  be  no  very  flattering  com- 
pliment to  a  man's  figure  to  say  that  he  is  taller  than  the 
Polish  dwarf,  shorter  than  Giant  O'Brien,  fatter  than  a 
skeleton,  and  more  slender  than  Daniel  Lambert.  No 
speaking  can  be  less  ornamental  than  that  of  Demosthenes, 
or  more  diffuse  than  that  of  Cicero.' 


224  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

Heldenmaier  lays  it  down  as  a  maxim  of  education,  that 
freedom  is  the  all-essential  condition  of  growth  and  power. 
There  can  be  no  fervour  while,  in  the  language  of  Sam 
Slick,  '  Talk  has  a  pair  of  stays,  and  is  laced  up  tight  and 
stiff.'  It  is  freedom  which  is  the  active  element  of  all  fresh 
and  vigorous  style.  Dr  Gilchrist  observes  that — '  What  one 
of  the  ancient  philosophers  said  of  laws  may  be  truly  said 
of  rhetorical  rules  :  they  are  like  cobwebs  which  entangle 
the  weak  but  which  the  strong  break  through.  The  first 
rule  of  good  composition  is,  that  the  composer  be  free  and 
bold.  Before  a  man  can  be  a  good  thinker  or  a  good 
writer  he  must  be  free  and  bold.'  .  .  . 

As  soon  as  a  man  understands  a  subject,  he  is  in  a  con- 
dition, so  far  as  ideas  go,  to  write  or  speak  about  it.  If  he 
has  also  courage  to  write  himself  in  his  words,  he  may  be 
original.  But  if  he  forget  that  fulness  and  freedom  are  both 
blind,  and  that  without  the  revealing  lights  of  taste,  perspi- 
cuity and  brevity,  he  may  offend,  bewilder  and  tire. 

An  old  woman  who  showed  a  house  and  pictures  at 
Towcester  expressed  herself  in  these  words  : — '  This  is 
Sir  Richard  Farmer ;  he  lived  in  the  country,  took  care  of 
his  estate,  built  this  house  and  paid  for  it,  managed  well, 
saved  money,  and  died  rich.  That  is  his  son ;  he  was 
made  a  lord,  took  a  place  at  Court,  spent  his  estate,  and 
died  a  beggar  ! ' 

A  concise  but  striking  account.  The  old  exhibitor  had 
no  doubt  learned  brevity  by  weariness  of  repetition  and  the 
desire  of  giving  satisfactory  information  in  a  few  words — 
difficult  to  acquire  ;  but  the  art  can  be  acquired,  and  a  style 
marked  by  sentences  concise  and  short  is  no  mean  one 
Butler,  who  knew  so  many  things,  tells  us : — 


As  'tis  a  greater  mystery  in  the  art 
Of  painting,  to  foreshorten  any  part, 
Than  draw  it  out,  so  'tis  in  books  the  chief 
Of  all  perfections — to  be  plain  and  brief. 


STYLE   EXPLAINED  225 

Douglas  Jerrold  wrote  of  the  Bishop  of  Exeter  : — '  What 
a  lawyer  was  spoiled  in  that  bishop !  What  a  brain 
he  has  for  cobwebs  !  How  he  drags  you  along  through 
sentence  after  sentence — every  one  a  dark  passage — until 
your  head  swims  ! '  Jerrold,  whose  style  was  as  bright  as 
his  mind,  knew  the  darkness  which  prevails  where  per- 
spicuity is  absent. 

Brevity  and  precision  are  more  manifest  among  our 
French  neighbours  than  among  ourselves.  The  speeches 
made  to  mobs — the  most  hurried  placards,  abound  in  the 
felicities  of  condensation.  Europe  has  been  agitated  with 
communism  before  our  time.  Few  could  tell  you  what  was 
meant  by  it.  Yet  a  century  ago,  Morelly  thus  expressed 
it : — '  It  is  the  solution  of  this  excellent  problem — to  find  a 
situation  in  which  it  shall  be  nearly  impossible  for  man  to 
be  depraved  or  poor.'  We  have  never  on  this  side  the 
Channel  exceeded  the  felicity  of  this  description. 

'  The  style  of  Bunyan,'  says  Macaulay,  '  is  delightful  to 
every  reader,  and  invaluable  as  a  study  to  every  person  who 
wishes  to  obtain  a  wide  command  over  the  English  language. 
His  vocabulary  is  the  vocabulary  of  the  common  people. 
There  is  not  an  expression,  if  we  except  a  few  terms  of 
theology,  which  would  puzzle  the  rudest  peasant.  We  have 
observed  several  pages  which  do  not  contain  a  single  word 
of  more  than  two  syllables.  Yet,  no  writer  has  said  more 
exactly  what  he  wanted  to  say.  For  magnificence,  for 
pathos,  for  vehement  exhortation,  for  subtle  disquisition, 
for  every  purpose  of  the  poet,  the  orator,  and  the  divine, 
this  homely  dialect,  this  dialect  of  plain  working  men, 
was  sufficient.' 

In  the  first  edition  of  Practical  Grammar  (by  the 
present  writer)  there  was  direction  open  to  the  charge  of 
vagueness.  If  remarks  had  to  be  made  at  the  end  of  a 
statement,  it  was  directed  that  they  should  be  neither  '  too 
strong  nor  too  tedious.'  But  when  he  subsequently  asked 
his  class  at  the  City  Mechanic's  Institution  at  what  point  of 

p 


226  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

effectiveness  a  man  might  be  said  to  be  '  too  strong,'  it  was 
agreed  that  there  was  error  somewhere.  And  the  injunction 
not  to  be  '  too  tedious  '  was  found  to  imply  that  we  might 
be  tedious  in  some  degree^which  hardly  seemed  desirable. 
Then  it  was  asked,  What  is  strength  ?  Some  answered 
power.  What  was  power  ?  Some  said  effectiveness.  But 
it  was  soon  felt  that  these  definitions  left  us,  like  Swift's 
definition  of  style,  'the  use  of  proper  words  in  proper 
places.'  What  were  proper  words  and  proper  places  still 
remained  open  questions.  So,  if  power  was  strength,  and 
strength  effectiveness,  what  was  effectiveness  was  still  un- 
known. It  was  finally  agreed  that  to  be  strong  was  to  be 
just,  and  the  remedy  of  tediousness  was  brevity.  We  there- 
fore agreed  that  'remarks  just  and  brief  was  the  proper 
expression  to  have  used.  For  what  was  just  could  never 
be  '  too '  strong,  and  what  was  brief  could  never  be  '  too ' 
tedious.  From  which  we  also  learned  that  strength  of 
comment  lay  in  just  sentiments,  and  that  tedium  was  the 
tiresomeness  of  prolixity. 

When  Professor  Huxley  speaks  or  writes,  his  style  seems 
the  product  of  an  original  mind  dwelling  in  an  atmosphere 
of  realities.  His  sentences  are  as  fresh  as  bunches  of 
grapes  gathered  the  same  morning,  the  bloom  is  upon  them. 

The  Rev.  J.  R.  Green  was  one  of  the  few  writers  of  recent 
years  whose  style  is  the  envy  and  admiration  of  critics  as 
well  as  his  readers.  Mr  Green  had  his  own  preferences  as 
to  who  should  write  about  him.  Whether  Mr  W.  J.  Loftie, 
'  the  Historian  of  London,'  is  one  does  not  appear,  but  in 
the  New  Princetown  Review,  he  describes  Green's  ideas  of 
style  : — '  A  German  in  research,  a  Frenchman  in  writing — 
that  was  his  formula ;  and  a  thorough  familiarity  with  French 
historians,  and  novelists  too,  had  more  to  do  with  the 
nervous,  manly,  graphic  English  of  his  works  than  is  gener- 
ally supposed.  I  have  heard  him  say  that  English  history 
should  be  written  so  as  to  be  as  entertaining  as  a  French 
novel.     I  remember  one  of  his  maxims  about  composition  : 


STYLE   EXPLAINED  22/ 

— "  Take  the  public,  as  it  were,  into  your  confidence ;  write 
to  them  as  if  they  knew  as  much  as  you  do  yourself ;  but  in 
your  own  mind  assume  that  they  know  nothing."  This  is 
an  intelligible,  and  therefore  an  instructive  passage. 

The  loaded  style  never  lasts  in  literature.  Excellence 
lies  in  the  thought  expressed,  and  not  in  ornate  phrases. 
The  one  thing  the  hearer  or  reader  has  to  look  to  is  the 
quality  of  the  idea  sought  to  be  conveyed  to  his  understand 
ing.  If  it  comes  to  him  in  terms  which  commend  it  or 
exalt  it,  so  much  the  better.  The  idea  should  be  presented 
bright  and  clear,  all  phrases  which  merely  glitter  about  it 
do  but  dazzle  those  who  have  to  see  it.  When  the  orator 
describes  the 

Wide,  grey,  lampless  depth  of  time, 

his  simple  language  best  depicts  the  impressive  vision. 

A  column  has  been  erected  at  Monte  Pincio,  in  Rome, 
to  the  memory  of  Galileo's  imprisonment  in  the  neighbour- 
ing palace  of  the  Medicis.  It  bears  the  following  epigraph  : 
— 'The  neighbouring  palace,  once  the  property  of  the 
Medicis,  was  the  prison  of  Galileo-Galilei,  guilty  of  having 
seen  the  earth  revolve  round  the  sun.'  He  who  wrote  this 
epitaph  had  a  style  worthy  of  Rome. 

Joseph  Barker  was  a  man  of  slovenly  power,  and  yet  a 
moving  influence  in  his  day.  He  found  his  way  to  the 
popular  understanding  by  a  force  of  style  all  his  own. 
Ebenezer  Elliot  and  other  good  judges  of  rhetoric  in 
Sheffield,  told  me  Barker  excelled  all  other  platform  speakers 
they  had  known  in  the  vigorous  use  of  Saxon  English.  He 
was  always  understood  by  the  multitude ;  like  Dr  Johnson 
(whom  I  do  not  think  Barker  ever  read),  he  knew  the 
literary  force  of  repeating  nouns ;  unless  a  pronoun  could 
be  used  near  to  the  noun.  When  the  noun  was  pale  in  the 
memory  of  the  crowd  or  congregation  before  him — he  re- 
peated the  noun.  The  hearer,  therefore,  had  never  to  go 
back  upon   what  he  had   heard.     The  main   noun   being 


228  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

brought  again  before  him,  he  always  knew  v/hat  the  matter 
in  hand  was.  This  practice  gives  amazing  force  and  clear- 
ness to  popular  speech.  It  is  a  mere  mechanical  element  of 
style  which  everyone  might  employ  with  advantage  to  hearer 
or  reader. 

He  who  wants  to  know  whether  he  has  written  what  he 
wishes  to  say,  and  as  he  ought  to  say  it,  let  him  read  it 
aloud  to  himself.  Even  his  own  voice  will  seem  as  apart 
from  him  as  that  of  an  auditor.  Or  let  him  do  as  the 
shrewd  Moliere  did,  read  his  composition  to  his  cook,  if  no 
one  else  is  at  hand—  read  it  to  anyone  who  will  listen — 
and  the  reader  will  at  once  become  sensible  of  redundancies, 
omissions,  irrelevancies,  and  incongruities,  of  which  his  own 
wit  will  never  make  him  sensible.  Even  stupidity  as  an 
auditor  will  improve  style. 

The  text  of  a  great  writer  resembles  a  piece  of  Gobelin 
tapestry  or  some  golden  embroidery.  Every  page  is  from 
the  same  loom.  You  know  every  sentence  by  the  texture, 
the  colour,  and  the  design.  Some  books  are  like  calico 
prints,  you  read  them  by  the  yard;  the  gay  or  gaudy 
pattern  diverts  or  serves  for  common  use.  In  some  books, 
insipid,  glaring  pieces  of  flimsy  meaning,  without  harmony 
or  purpose — stare  at  the  reader  in  every  chapter.  But  in 
George  Eliot's  writing,  for  instance,  every  portion  is  part  of 
one  well-woven  fabric,  strong,  dainty,  and  durable,  and  is  as 
a  wealthy  garment  of  the  mind. 

All  that  is  in  the  power  of  a  student  of  style  and  who 
wishes  to  make  a  style  for  himself,  are  clearness,  brevity,  and 
the  use  of  relevant  and  vivid  similes.  *  Be  clear,'  was  the 
best  thing  Napoleon  said  to  his  secretaries.  Clearness  of 
statement  can  be  acquired  by  anyone  who  has  clear  ideas. 
Brevity  is  almost  a  mechanical  attainment,  since  a  man  has 
only  to  stop  when  he  has  written  as  much  as  his  adversary 
would  read  if  sent  to  him — or  would  listen  to  if  spoken 
to  him.  Meaning,  as  has  been  said,  may  be  made  clearer  and 
even  enlivened  by  comparison.     Alma-Tadema  says, '  As  the 


STYLE   EXPLAINED  229 

sun  colours  the  flowers,  so  does  art  colour  life.'  Comparisons 
and  similes  are  the  sun  of  style  and  impart  colour  to  it. 

A  painter  or  sculptor  will  acquire  decision  and  finish  by 
studying  the  great  masters  of  the  twin  arts ;  he  may  thus 
improve  his  own  style,  but  the  turn  and  quality  of  his  mind 
will  remain  his  own.  In  like  manner  a  rhetorician  will 
profit  by  the  study  of  great  writers.  For  vigorous  trans- 
parency and  classical  grace,  Grote  counted  Mill's  essay 
on  Liberty  to  be  the  most  striking  production  of  modern 
time.  Let  the  student  keep  as  free  as  he  can  of  mean 
conversation  or  mean  books.     Buddha  says  :— 

'  Let  no  one  think  lightly  of  evil,  saying,  in  his  heart,  "  It 
will  not  come  near  me."  Even  by  the  falling  of  water 
drops  a  water-pot  is  filled ;  and  the  fool  becomes  full  of 
evil,  even  if  he  gathers  it  little  by  little.'  Then  let  the 
good  come  near,  and  little  by  little  the  heart  will  become 
full  of  excellence.' 

A  dinner  cooked  anyhow,  a  coat  cut  anyhow,  without 
study  of  the  figure  or  kind  of  person  to  be  clothed,  would 
neither  delight  the  taste  nor  the  sight.  Style  of  speech 
means  prevision  and  adaptability  to  the  occasion  and  to  the 
end  sought.  In  every  case,  transparency  and  brevity  are 
the  permanent  virtues. 

Dean  Swift,  who  saw  further  before  him  than  any  man  in 
the  great  day  in  which  he  lived,  said  he  who  makes  two 
ears  of  corn  grow  where  only  one  grew  before  deserves  well 
of  mankind.  The  contrary  is  true  in  literature.  He  who 
makes  one  sentence  to  express  a  meaning,  while  another 
would  employ  two  to  do  it,  confers  a  sensible  benefit  on  all 
whom  he  addresses,  and  deserves  the  gratitude  of  every 
reader. 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

WHAT     HAS     BEEN     SAID 

'  What  am  I  going  to  say  ? '  is  a  question  a  speaker  may 
usefully  put  to  himself  before  commencing  his  address.  If 
he  does  not  know,  it  will,  in  most  cases,  be  bad  for  the 
audience.  It  is  the  principal  thing,  or  two  or  three  of 
the  main  things,  which  should  be  clear,  distinct  and  upper- 
most in  the  orator's  mind.  "Whether  he  keeps  to  notes  he 
may  have  made  for  illustration  will  matter  little  to  him  if  he 
can  make  his  distinctive  objects  evident  to  the  hearers.  But 
as  a  speech  nears  its  end  the  need  for  a  not  less  important 
interrogatory  arises. 

'What  has  been  saidV  is  the  next  question  many  a 
speaker  might  put  to  himself  before  the  conclusion  of 
his  speech.  By  that  time  he  ought  to  know  what  he  has 
been  talking  about — but  may  not — and  it  may  be  the 
audience  are  not  quite  sure  themselves,  so  that  a  brief 
incidental  as  it  were,  an  unpretentious,  but  nevertheless  a 
salient  recapitulation  of  the  essential  points  of  the  address 
will  be  useful.  In  cases  where  a  statement  made  is  clear, 
strong,  vigorous  and  coherent,  a  few  impressive  sentences 
at  the  close  are  sufficient.  If  the  speaker  has  reason  to 
think  his  audience  have  not  a  clear  conception  of  his  subject 
he  may  restate  it  in  a  few  words  at  ihe  close.  In  no  case 
slavishly  recapitulate  all  points  made.  Do  no  more  than 
recall  the  animating  principles,  which  should  be  fixed  in  the 

230 


WHAT   HAS   BEEN    SAID  23 1 

hearer's  or  reader's  mind,  as  is  sought  to  be  done  in  this 
chapter.  Let  the  speaker  not  forget  that  many  persons 
never  think,  though  they  think  they  do. 

The  effectiveness  of  a  speech  is  governed  by  its  purpose 
which  must  animate  the  orator.  And  for  effectiveness, 
unsurpassed  clearness,  if  the  speaker  can  attain  to  it, 
is  the  main  condition.  How  can  a  man  be  moved  or 
guided  by  what  he  does  not  see?  It  is  like  the  large  stone 
visible  at  low  ^Yater  in  a  river  in  Cavan,  on  which  is  carved 
the  notice — 'When  this  stone  is  out  of  sight  it  is  not 
safe  to  ford  this  stream.'  But  what  traveller  can  read  the 
warning  when  it  is  '  out  of  sight  ? '  The  reader  will  surely 
be  drowned,  unless  the  meaning  stands  above  the  water  of 
words. 

The  late  Archbishop  of  York  (Dr  Magee)  was  so  sensible 
of  the  value  of  purpose  in  speech,  or  essay,  or  sermon,  that 
he  advised  young  preachers  when  they  had  written  a  sermon 
and  could  not  give  a  name  to  it,  to  throw  it  away,  decide 
upon  a  name,  and  write  to  that,  otherwise,  *a  man  who 
starts  without  a  definite  purpose  is  at  the  mercy  of  his 
words.'  Words,  and  not  a  fixed  intent,  have  the  command 
of  him.  During  the  Mexican  war  one  of  the  generals  said 
to  Captain  Bragg, '  The  crisis  has  arrived — fire.'  The  Captain 
said  to  his  lieutenent,  '  You  hear  what  the  General  said — 
"The  crisis  has  come — fire."'  The  lieutenant  replied, — 
'  But  I  see  nothing  to  fire  at.'  '  Then,'  said  Captain  Bragg, 
'  fire  at  the  crisis.'  No  report  states  whether  they  hit  it.  But 
the  moral  of  the  incident  is  relevant.  The  orator,  like  the 
soldier,  must  aim  at  something,  and  have  something  to 
aim  at.  In  rhetoric,  as  well  as  in  morals,  the  saying  of  the 
Mogul  Sultan  Achar  is  true, — '  I  never  knew  a  man  lost  on 
a  straight  road.' 

'  There  are,'  said  the  shrewd  Archbishop  Magee,  '  three 
kinds  of  preachers  : — First,  the  preachers  you  ca^i't  listen  to. 
Second,  the  preachers  you  cari  listen  to.  Third,  the 
preachers  you  can't  help  listening   to.' 


232  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

The  last  kind  of  preacher  is  one  who  acts  on  the  wise 
maxim  of  Vinet,  and  '  looks  after  himself  as  though  he  were 
somebody  else ' — as  ever}'one  must  do  who  would  become 
a  successful  public  speaker.  He  who  would  practise 
Vinet's  rule  must  court  debate  and  engage  in  it,  when  he 
will  learn  that  there  are  two  sides,  and  sometimes  more,  to 
most  questions.  Not  knowing  this,  causes  many  persons  to 
be  blown  about  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  which  confuses 
them  when  they  encounter  it,  because  they  have  not  known 
it,  and,  of  course,  have  not  regarded  it  in  forming  their  own 
judgment.  Unfamiliar  with  opposite  views,  they  are  afraid 
of  them,  and  are  unhinged  by  them.  William  Black,  the 
novelist,  relates  that  it  was  by  the  merest  accident  in  read- 
ing the  proofs  of  his  novel  of  Wolfenberg,  that  he  discovered 
that  the  printer  had  made  his  heroine  who  was  to  die 
by  an  *  overdose  of  opium '  die  by  an  '  overdose  of 
opinion.'  More  people  die  in  this  way  than  are  imagined. 
A  well-informed  man  is  never  in  danger  from  an  over- 
dose of  opinion.  A  prudent  man  seeks  every  kind  of 
relevant  opinion  before  he  forms  his  own.  Dr  Johnson, 
who  was  always  for  discussion,  derided  the  fear  of  rival 
views,  saying,  'If  contrariety  of  opinion  would  poison  a 
man,  a  politician  would  die  in  a  day.'  Contrariety  of 
reasoned  opinion — none  others  are  entitled  to  attention — 
are  the  elements  out  of  which  a  sound  judgment  is  formed. 
He  whose  mind  is  set  on  sureness  as  to  facts  will  never  go 
far  wrong,  nor  will  he  mislead  others,  '  If  people,'  says  the 
Rev.  Dr  Edward  Everett  Hale,  'would  only  stop  talking 
where  they  stop  knowing,  half  the  evils  of  life  would  come 
to  an  end.'  He  who  takes  the  trouble  of  personal  investiga- 
tion will  avoid  many  errors.  It  is  when  anyone  relies,  with- 
out suspicion  or  care,  upon  what  he  learns  from  others, 
that  the  necessity  for  circumspection  comes  in.  Rumour 
s'-.Mom  touches  the  fringe  of  truth.  Reports  are  to  be 
distrusted  and  hearsay  more  so.  Miss  Edna  Lyall's  History 
of  a  Lie  is  a  most  instructive  little  book,  on  the  careless, 


WHAT   HAS   BEEN    SAID  233 

unintended,  tragic  mendacity  of  modern  days.  Before 
anyone  believes  what  he  is  told,  he  ought  to  ask  him- 
self what  is  the  teller's  capacity  for  attentive  hearing  and 
accuracy  of  memory  ?  What  opportunity  had  he  of  knowing 
the  truth  of  what  he  relates?  What  motives  has  he  for 
telling  it  ?  Is  the  tale-bearer  a  person  of  vigilant  observa- 
tion and  habitual  veracity  of  mind?  Has  he  prejudice, 
animus,  or  interest,  which  may  bias  his  impressions?  If 
he  merely  tells  what  he  has  been  told,  what  is  the  character, 
qualifications  and  attainments  as  to  trustworthiness  of 
that  informant?  Under  what  circumstance  was  the  thing 
said  which  he  reports  ?  Circumstances  under  which  a  thing 
is  said  are  like  the  context  of  a  passage.  The  context  is  a 
part  of  the  story.  Without  due  sifting  of  evidence  on  which 
a  man  reasons,  he  may  be  deceived  himself  and,  what 
is  worse,  he  may  deceive  all  who  trust  to  his  judgment. 
For  he  who  retails  as  facts  what  he  has  taken  no  pre- 
cautions to  verify,  and  has  not  warned  hearer  or  reader  to 
that  effect,  becomes  himself  responsible  for  what  error  or 
mischievousness  may  be  in  them. 

Of  course,  a  man  speaks  in  vain  when  the  auditors  cease 
to  attend  to  him.  He  must  obtain  and  retain  the  ear  of  the 
assembly,  or  he  will  fail  to  influence  them.  To  this  end  he 
must  not  lead  attention  down  lanes  of  digressions,  or  it  will 
lose  sight  of  the  main  line  on  which  the  train  of  argument 
runs.  Nor  must  the  minds  of  the  hearers  be  allowed  to 
stumble  at  words  above  their  comprehension.  Every  speaker 
of  sense  will  follow,  as  far  as  the  question  under  consideration 
will  let  him,  that  golden  rule  of  Csesar's — 'To  avoid  an  unusual 
word  as  one  would  a  rock.'  In  character,  in  manners,  in 
logic,  in  style,  the  supreme  excellence  is  simplicity. 

George  Sand  tells  us  there  is  a  good  Goddess  of  Poverty. 
If  you  have  choice  in  Pagan  deities,  choose  the  good 
Goddess  of  Lucidity,  if  there  be  one. 

Lord  Bailing,  when  Sir  Henry  Bulwer  Lytton,  showed 
a  high  order  of  caution  and  precaution   as  a  diplomatist. 


234  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

When  trouble  with  America  arose  on  the  question  of 
'indirect  damages,'  at  the  close  of  the  planter's  war  in 
defence  of  slavery,  American  statesmen  drew  up  a  Treaty 
which  was  to  close  the  affair,  but  opened  it  wider.  Lord 
Bailing  found  in  it  the  terms  'growing  out  of  which  he 
said  '  could  hardly  occur  to  anyone  but  a  market  gardener.' 
When  he  had  to  prepare  a  counter  treaty,  he  took  the 
trouble  of  going  over  all  American  Treaties,  and  in  all 
important  passages  he  only  used  such  words  as  they  had  used 
before,  in  the  sense  in  which  American  diplomatists  had 
used  them.  To  employ  the  language  of  Paley,  this  '  could 
not  be  gotten  over.'  Common  ground  was  found  and  an 
international  agreement  came  to  pass. 

On  terms  of  imputation,  Mr  Serjeant  Robinson,  in  his 
Bench  and  Bar,  gives  curious  legal  opinions.  He  relates 
that  an  action  was  brought  before  Mr  Justice  Maule  by  an 
attorney  against  a  defendant  for  calling  him  a  thief,  a  rogue, 
and  a  fiend ;  and  as  the  plaintiff  had  no  proof  of  any 
pecuniary  special  damage,  he  had  to  rely  on  the  injury  that 
must  necessarily  be  inflicted  on  him  in  his  professional 
capacity  by  the  imputation  of  being  a  '  fiend.' 

In  summing  up,  Maule  said : — '  As  to  the  word  thief, 
it  is  a  very  ambiguous  one,  and  does  not  necessarily  impute 
what  the  law  considers  an  indictable  offence.  For  instance, 
to  steal  a  man's  wife,  to  steal  away  the  affections  of  another, 
to  steal  a  march  upon  anyone,  would  be  no  crime  in  law. 
Wives,  human  affections,  and  such  things  as  marches  are 
not  at  present  the  subjects  of  larceny.  Rogue  is  different ; 
it  might  certainly  affect  the  plaintiff  professionally,  because 
a  rogue  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  practi.se  as  an  attorney. 
But  the  same  principle  does  not  apply  to  the  term  fiend. 
It  may  not  be  a  complimentary  expression,  but  I  do  not 
think  to  be  a  fiend  disqualifies  a  man  from  being  an 
attorney.  If  the  learned  counsel  will  point  out  to  me  any 
case  where  the  Court  has  refused  an  application  to  place  a 
fiend  upon  the  rolls,  I  shall  be  happy  to  consider  it.' 


WHAT   HAS   BEEN   SAID  235 

Contumelious  epithets  have  the  unpleasant  tendency  of 
suggesting  the  character  and  associations  of  the  user.  A 
cattle  dealer  of  Berne,  being  indicted  for  calling  another  in 
the  same  way  of  business  a  'swindler,  a  dirty  dog  and 
a  convict,'  the  Court  held  that  such  language  was  but 
the  current  expressions  of  the  cattle  market,  and  below 
the  dignity  of  notice. 

John  Addington  Symonds,  as  remarkable  for  self- 
introspection  as  for  his  great  attainments,  said  'he  found 
a  pleasure  in  expression  for  its  own  sake,  but  he  had  not 
the  inevitable  touch  of  the  true  poet,  nor  the  iincotiquerable 
patience  of  the  conscious  artist.'  There  is  the  genius  of 
a  great  writer  in  this  sentence,  which  explains  with  pene- 
tration and  fitness  of  phrase,  the  unregarded  conditions  of 
supreme  excellence. 

Paderewski  is  a  famous  master  of  his  art,  but  his  skill 
was  won  and  is  sustained  by  application,  which  is  instructive 
to  those  of  indolent  ambition,  who  believe  in  off-hand 
excellence.  On  the  eve  of  Paderewski's  first  appearance 
in  New  York,  he  left  his  hotel  at  nine  at  night,  went  direct 
to  Steinway  Hall,  induced  the  watchman  to  let  him  in, 
had  the  gas  lighted,  opened  the  biggest  piano  he  could 
find,  and  sat  before  it  from  ten  at  night  till  four  the  next 
morning,  with  only  the  watchman  for  an  audience.  Then 
he  went  home,  and  after  ten  hours'  sleep  astonished  a 
large  audience  by  what  most  of  them  took  to  be  spontane- 
ous skill.  The  'unconquerable  patience'  commended  by 
Symonds  has  its  place  in  literature  and  speech  as  well  as 
music. 

One  who  lately  died — Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  whose 
praise  for  mastery  in  writing  every  critic  sang — said :  '  I 
can  always  tell  when  an  author  does  not  write  over  and 
over  again.  His  clauses  may  be  unmusical,  his  words 
colourless  and  inexpressive,  yet,  if  the  order  is  perfect 
throughout,  he  will  be  a  great  writer.'  Absolute  rightness 
of  order  gives   new  force  and  significance  to   terms   and 


236  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

expressions,  which  would  be  lifeless  without  it.  Stevenson's 
clauses  had  melody,  colour  and  expressiveness,  but  the 
Tightness  of  order,  which  imparted  to  them  splendour,  he 
acquired  himself  with  'infinite  labour.'* 

Yet  the  labour  necessary  to  excellence  is  less  than  is 
commonly  imagined,  if  the  aspirant  confines  himself  to 
things  essential.  Relevant  knowledge  is  all  that  is  required, 
and  relevance  is  limited.  Excessive  acquisition  of  many 
things  is  as  useless  as  excessive  eating,  and  equally  incon- 
venient for  action.  There  are  learned  persons  who  read 
themselves  stupid.  Hume,  in  his  wise  way,  said,  'A 
man's  time,  when  well  husbanded,  is  like  a  cultivated  field, 
of  which  a  few  acres  produce  more  of  what  is  useful  to  life 
than  extensive  provinces,  even  of  the  richest  soil,  when 
overrun  with  weeds.' 

Mr  Arthur  W.  Hutton,  being  for  seven  years  a  priest  in 
the  Oratory  at  Birmingham,  knew  Cardinal  Newman  well. 
Mr  Hutton  tells  us  that  '  Dr  Newman's  two  volumes  of 
Catholic  sermons  were  written  out  and  carefully  corrected. 
But  his  spoken  sermons  were,  by  comparison,  deplorable — 
apparently  unprepared  and  without  plan  or  point ;  through- 
out he  was  rambling  and  dreary.  He  told  me  himself,' 
says  Mr  Hutton,  'that  he  never  sarv  the  congregation  he 
was  addressing — a  fact  which,  I  suppose,  by  itself  shows 
that  he  had  no  oratorical  gift.  But  when  he  read  with 
slow  and  musical  enunciation  the  exquisite  sentences  he 
had  penned  in  the  privacy  of  his  room,  there  was  something 
almost  magical  in  the  effect.' 

The  noblest  oration  on  oratory  delivered  in  this  century, 
so  far  as  is  known  to  me,  is  that  by  Lord  Lytton,  then  Sir 
Edward  Bulwer  Lytton,  on  the  occasion  of  his  installation 
as  Lord  Rector  of  the  University  of  Glasgow.  In  one  pass- 
age he  said,  '  Without  earnestness  a  man  might  be  admired 
as  a  firework,  but  he  would  never  guide  as  a  star.'  Further, 
'  Though  delivery  no  doubt  is  the  appropriate  excellence 
•  iVestminsier  Gazette,  at  the  time  of  Stevenson's  death. 


WHAT   HAS   BEEN   SAID  237 

of  the  mere  orator,  the  three-fold  gift  of  the  Parliamentary 
speaker  is  earnestness.  Have  but  fair  sense  and  a  com- 
petent knowledge  of  your  subject,  and  then  be  thoroughly 
in  earnest  to  impress  your  own  honest  conviction  upon 
others,  and  no  matter  what  your  delivery,  though  your 
gestures  shock  every  rule  in  Quinctilian,  you  will  com- 
mand the  ear  and  influence  the  debates  of  the  most 
accomplished,  the  most  fastidious,  and,  take  it  altogether, 
the  noblest  assembly  of  freemen  in  the  world.'  A  man 
cannot  be  earnest  at  will.  It  is  interest  and  conviction 
which  makes  anyone  earnest.  But  though  earnestness  on 
any  subject  is  not  a  quality  at  command,  every  man  is  in 
earnest  about  something,  and  if  his  desire  is  to  speak  well 
let  him  confine  himself  to  questions  in  which  he  is  sincerely 
concerned.  A  speaker  may  be  entertaining  without  sincerity, 
but  cannot  be  impressive  without  it. 

Oratory  is  what  Mr  Goldwin  Smith  called  it,  '  the  fusion 
of  argument  and  passion.'  Oratory  is  reason  animated  by 
human  interest — essential  truth  endowed  with  new  life. 

The  manifest  sincerity  with  which  Lord  Lytton  com- 
mended maxims  of  oratory  to  the  students  of  the  University, 
served  him  well.  The  'outburst  of  long-continued  cheer- 
ing '  which  followed  its  close,  showed  that.  The  brilliant 
sense  of  what  he  said  implied  conviction  as  well  as  pre- 
meditation. An  engaging  presence  and  physical  power — 
two  important  conditions  of  oratory  —  he  had,  but  his 
manner  was  greatly  against  him.  It  showed  an  entire  lack 
of  oratorical  art.  One  who  heard  him  said — 'There  were 
no  winning  tones ;  his  action  was  ungainly ;  he  moved  his 
arms  from  his  elbows ;  his  voice  was  monotonous,  and  in 
the  grander  passages  of  his  address  he  had  no  better  mode 
of  indicating  their  importance  than  by  throwing  himself  into 
an  extra  erect  attitude,  and  pronouncing  his  words  louder 
and  with  a  greater  drawl  than  usual'  I  have  heard  him 
speak  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  the  same  way,  when  he 
yet  charmed  all  who  listened  to  what  he  said,  and  were  un- 


238  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

regarding  as  to  how  he  said  it.  It  was  his  audibility  and 
sense  which  saved  him.  Ever  true  is  the  saying  of  Buddha, 
that  'pleasant  speech  and  the  word  that  is  well  spoken 
are  great  blessings.' 

For  all  students  one  rule  holds  good — not  having  all  the 
talent  you  desire,  nor  all  the  genius  you  covet,  cultivate 
what  you  have.  None  know  what  that  is  till  they  give  their 
powers  fair  play,  full  play  and  reiterated  play.  Jenny  Lind 
said,  '  If  I  had  nothing  in  the  world  but  music  it  would  be 
enough.  I  become  a  different  thing  when  I  sing — different 
body — different  soul.'  But  she  did  not  know  this  till  long 
after  she  began  to  sing. 

When  Professor  Arminius  Vambery  was  asked  by  the 
Empress  Euge'nie  how  he  travelled  through  Asia  with  a 
defective  foot,  he  answered,  '  Oh,  your  Majesty,  one  does 
not  walk  on  his  feet,  but  on  his  tongue.'  Oratory  is  the 
education  of  the  tongue,  with  that  befitting  accompani- 
ment of  gesture  and  manner  which  lend  life  to  language. 
All  the  while  the  merit  of  eloquence  lies  in  its  use.  The 
valid  use  of  the  art  of  public  speaking  and  debate  is  the 
protection  of  unfriended  truth,  and  the  vindication  of  im- 
perilled right.     Poets  tell  us  that 

Ever  the  right  comes  uppermost, 
And  ever  is  justice  done. 

Beware  how  you  believe  that.  The  right  never  comes 
'uppermost'  unless  some  one  helps  it  up.  'Justice  is 
seldom  or  never  done,'  unless  strong  argument  compels  men 
to  do  it,  Adolphe  Fischer  tells  us  you  '  cannot  kill  a 
principle,'  but  the  people  can  be  killed  who  assert  it,  and 
that  is  sufficient.  The  principle  is  suppressed  for  genera- 
tions. Truth  is  said  to  be  'immortal.'  Let  us  hope  it  is, 
but  I  have  seen  its  voi«"e  silenced  through  the  intimidation 
of  those  who  stand  forth  to  vindicate  it.  What  is  the  good 
of  dumb  truth  ?  This  is  why  bigotry,  intolerance  and  per- 
secution are  so  hateful.     They  can  and  do  suppress  truth 


WHAT   HAS   BEEN    SAID  239 

and  right.  To  resist  these  seemingly  eternal  agents  of  evil, 
all  the  arts  of  eloquence  and  reason  are  required.  Speech 
and  pen  are  the  brilliant  weapons  by  which  the  victory  over 
error  and  injustice  can  be  won. 

The  object  of  instruction  in  any  art  is  to  enable  the 
student,  in  his  hour  of  practice  of  it,  to  be  master  of  all  his 
powers.  Could  the  minds  of  men  be  made  palpable  in 
bodily  form,  few  would  be  found  complete.  The  arms  and 
limbs  would  be  shrunken  in  some  from  want  of  due 
exercise — in  many,  the  head  would  be  entirely  missing.  As 
a  man  is  himself  the  measure  by  which  he  judges  other  men, 
he  will  form  a  defective  estimate  of  others  who  is  defective 
himself. 

Thus,  to  aim  at  excellence  is  to  increase  the  power 
of  understanding  others.  The  quality  of  that  self-knowledge, 
on  which  all  efficiency  is  built,  the  Arabian  proverb  teaches 
us  in  the  saying,  '  Men  are  Four,'  which  is  now  put  into 
English  verse.* 


'o 


The  man  who  knows  not  that  he  knows  not  aught — 
He  is  a  fool ;  no  light  shall  ever  reach  him. 

Who  knows  he  knows  not,  and  would  fain  be  taught — 
He  is  but  simple  ;  take  thou  him  and  teach  him. 

But  whoso,  knowing,  knows  not  that  he  knows — 
He  is  asleep ;  go  thou  to  him  and  wake  him. 

The  truly  wise  both  knows,  and  knows  he  knows — 
Cleave  thou  to  him  and  nevermore  forsake  him. 

The  succeeding  chapter  is  as  it  were  a  summary  of  the 
maxims  and  suggestions  of  preceding  pages  as  illustrated  in 
the  characteristics  of  legislative  orators. 

*  By  C.  E.  J.  in  The  Spectator. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

PARLIAMENTARY     ORATORY 

It  does  not,  as  I  have  said,  require  an  orator  to  write  of 
oratory — else  I  should  not  take  this  subject.  To  live  in 
the  atmosphere  of  eloquence  is  not  to  acquire  it.  A  man 
may  be  a  good  musical  critic  and  be  quite  unable  to  play 
like  Paganini,  or  sing  like  Malibran.  An  art-critic  may 
appraise  Leonardo  da  Vmci  who  could  never  paint  the 
'  Last  Supper.'  Many  have  criticised  '  Hamlet,'  but  none 
of  them  have  written  a  better  play.  He  who  witnesses  a 
boat-race  can  see  which  oarsman  will  come  in  first,  though 
were  he  in  the  boat  himself  he  would  come  in  last.  For 
myself,  I  have  known  a  sufficient  number  of  orators  to 
become  a  connoisseur  of  oratory.  But  though  I  have  lived 
near  the  rose,  I  have  not  myself  acquired  the  scent. 

Two  things  are  mistaken  for  oratory — eloquence  and 
splendid  speaking — whereas  stimulant  eloquence  alone  is 
oratory,  and  is  known  by  readiness,  fitness,  fire  and  velocity 
of  speech.  Splendid  speaking  is  description  touched  with 
colour,  as  may  be  seen  in  Huxley,  Goldwin  Smith,  and 
Green,  the  historian.  George  Dawson  was  a  speaker  of 
repute  in  his  day — the  greatest  platform  talker  known  in 
this  century.  He  not  only  rewarded  your  attention,  he 
engaged  it.  The  difference  between  the  speaker  and  the 
orator  may  be  seen  in  this  : — 

A  good  speaker  is  one  who  explains  things  with  distinct- 
ness, terseness,  and  lucidity. 

240 


PARLIAMENTARY  ORATORY  24 1 

An  orator  displays  energy,  compression,  and  passion. 

The  object  of  the  speaker  is  to  give  information — the 
object  of  the  orator  is  to  incite  to  action.  The  speaker 
illumines  the  understanding — the  orator  impels  and  directs 
the  passions.  The  speaker  is  a  guide,  the  orator  is  a 
master.  A  speech  is  light — an  oration  is  force.  Europe 
heard  it  in  Gambetta's  voice  of  storm,  thunder,  and  fire. 
The  second  Sir  Robert  Peel's  voice  stands  next  in  my 
mind  for  volcanic  force,  summoning  attention  and  holding 
it.  He  who  considers  what  the  qualities  of  the  public 
speaker  are,  will  better  understand  what  the  qualities  of 
the  orator  are.  Pitt  in  the  last  century,  and  Chamberlain 
in  this,  are  notable  examples  of  commanding  speakers. 
Romilly,  in  his  Dialogue  with  Percival,  says  '  Pitt,  who 
could  speak  fluently  three  hours  together,  came  about  us 
like  the  tide  along  the  Lancashire  sands,  always  shallow, 
but  always  just  high  enough  to  drown  us.'  Chamberlain, 
who  singularly  resembles  Pitt  in  personal  features,  is  not 
'  shallow  '  save  intermittently,  but  he  has  Pitt's  overcoming- 
ness  in  his  clearness  and  directness,  lacking  Pitt's  com- 
manding voice  and  dignity  of  gesture.  I  was  present  a 
few  years  ago  in  an  assembly  at  which  Mr  Chamberlain 
spoke,  as  did  also  several  other  distinguished  persons.  A 
stranger  who  knew  none  of  them  would  say  that  Mr 
Chamberlain  was  the  most  gentlemanly  speaker  of  them 
all,  save  Mr  Gladstone,  in  readiness,  undemonstrativeness, 
in  resolution  of  tone  and  directness  of  expression ;  dis- 
playing not  the  force  of  passion,  but  the  force  of  will, 
which  are  characteristics  of  the  gentlemanly  speaking,  I  go 
no  further.  Other  qualities  of  the  gentlemanly  manner  are 
considerate  courtesy,  which  is  modest  before  genius,  and 
which  never  wounds  the  susceptibility  of  the  humblest  by 
contemptuousness  or  disparagement — attainments  which  do 
not  always  accompany  gifts  of  speech. 

The   good   speaker   is   the    Light-giver.      I  once  asked 
John    Stuart    Mill    as   to    the    qualities    of  the  late  Lord 

Q 


242  PUBLIC  SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

Derby,  then  Lord  Stanley ;  he  said,  '  Lord  Stanley  is  the 
only  young  nobleman  I  know  who  thinks  it  necessary  to 
give  reasons  for  the  opinions  he  holds.'  Logic  is  the  light 
of  speech.  John  Arthur  Roebuck  was  the  most  mathe- 
matical speaker  in  Parliament  in  his  time.  He  knew  that 
the  shortest  distance  between  one  point  and  another  was  a 
straight  line,  and  he  took  it.  Sitting  at  his  table  one  day, 
he  told  me  what  he  was  going  to  say  at  Salisbury,  where,  at 
the  Bishop's  request,  he  was  to  deliver  prizes  to  students. 
A  fortnight  later,  I  read  a  report  of  his  speech  in  the  Times, 
which,  so  far  as  I  remembered,  was  word  for  word  what  he 
had  said  to  me.  The  reason  was  that  the  words  of  a  perfect 
statement  are  not  changeable.  If  any  term  can  be  changed 
for  the  better  it  means  that  a  wrong  word  has  been  used. 
Thus,  to  a  trained  mind,  understanding  is  in  place  of 
memory.  The  chosen  words  recur  to  the  speaker  because 
they  are  inevitable;  none  others  will  express  the  sense 
intended. 

John  Stuart  Mill  was  a  speaker  of  similar  quality.  He 
had  principles,  which  guide  the  politician  (as  the  Pole  star 
does  the  mariner)  through  the  tumultuous  sea  of  party 
questions,  which  to  other  minds  are  trackless.  A  principle 
is  a  magnet  which  draws  particles  of  sense,  like  steel,  from 
all  quarters  to  itself.  He  had  also  promptness  in  repartee, 
which  always  commands  admiration  in  Parliament.  When 
Lord  Cranbrook,  then  Mr  Gathorne  Hardy,  whom  Mr 
Justin  M'Carthy  describes  as  '  fluent  as  the  sand  in  an  hour- 
glass, and  stirring  as  the  roll  of  a  drum — but  often  as  dry  as 
the  sand  and  empty  as  the  drum ' — when  he  (Mr  Hardy) 
taunted  Mr  Mill  with  saying  that  the  Tories  were  the 
'  stupid  party,'  Mr  Mill  at  once  rejoined  :  '  The  honourable 
member  misunderstands  me.  I  never  said  that  every  Tory 
was  stupid — what  I  said  was,  that  if  a  man  was  stupid  he 
was  sure  to  be  a  Tory.' 

Lord  Cranbrook  was  a  type  of  the  explosive  speaker. 
His  father  was  an  ironmaster,  and  Lord  Cranbrook  always 


PARLIAMENTARY  ORATORY  243 

spoke  like  a  bhst  furnace.  He  produced  common-places 
red-hot,  and  spoke  them  with  a  red  face,  as  I  have  often 
seen  him.  He  would  have  been  leader  of  the  House  when 
his  party  was  in  power  but  for  his  explosive  tendencies. 

Lord  Sherbrooke,  when  Mr  Lowe,  displayed  a  classical 
clearness  and  brightness  of  speech.  When  he  was  con- 
temptuous his  sentences  had  teeth  in  them,  which  left  their 
mark  upon  the  mind.  In  the  grey  of  a  morning  in  1868, 
when  the  Liberals  had  deserted  Mr  Gladstone,  and  left  him 
with  only  a  majority  of  five  on  a  question  of  State,  Mr 
Gladstone,  with  his  usual  high  spirit,  at  once  resigned. 
The  alarmed  deserters  thought  they  might  reassure  him 
by  a  vote  of  confidence  in  him,  and  as  Mr  Lowe  emerged 
into  the  lobby  they  asked  his  opinion  of  the  idea.  His 
answer  was,  '  I  think,  gentleman,  that  you  cannot  unpuU  a 
man's  nose,'  which  ended  that  project. 

Lord  Derby,  the  son  of  the  Rupert  of  Debate,  was  not  a 
fluent  speaker,  but  he  excelled  in  vigorous  lucidity.  The 
hearer  came  to  see  exactly  what  Lord  Derby  saw,  and  what 
otherwise  he  would  not  see — the  common-sense  of  a  con- 
tested question,  which  only  few  persons  ever  do  perceive. 

In  ease,  in  grace,  in  silvery  tones,  in  the  confidence  he 
created  that  he  could  say,  and  continue  to  say,  whatever  he 
willed  to  say,  no  speaker,  save  one,  in  his  parliamentary  days 
exceeded  Lord  Coleridge. 

Lord  Westbury  had  in  him  the  making  of  a  Lord  Chan- 
cellor of  the  quality  of  Lord  Bacon.  All  the  details  of  the 
most  complicated  subject  seemed  to  lie  open  before  his  mind, 
in  clear  order.  Never  from  a  form  so  lusty  and  bucolic  in 
appearance  did  words  proceed  so  low,  so  continuous,  so 
pellucid,  so  keen,  and  so  unerring.  His  sentences  were  as 
clear  cut  as  though  turned  out  of  one  of  Sharp  and  Roberts' 
lathes.  I  once  heard  him  plead  a  case,  when  the  court  ad- 
journed for  lunch  as  he  arrived  at  the  word  sesquipedalian. 
He  had  got  only  '  sesqui '  pronounced.  When  the  court  re- 
turned he  went  on  with  '  pedalian '  as  though  no  intenup- 


244  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

tion  had  occurred.  He  never  lost  the  continuity  of  his 
argument.  In  reply  in  the  House  of  Lords  to  the  Bishop 
of  Oxford,  then  unfairly  known  as  'Soapy  Sam,'  Lord 
Westbury  remarked  with  ungentlemanly  rudeness  upon  '  the 
saponaceous  oratory  of  the  right  reverend  prelate.' 

Of  all  the  great  speakers  of  our  time  none  have  been  more 
instructive  or  more  self-possessed  than  Cobden.  He  was 
one  of  the  great  masters  of  statement  in  Parliament  or  on 
the  platform.  Demands  of  agitation  left  him  too  little  time 
to  predetermine  what  he  would  say,  but  he  determined  it 
while  he  was  saying  it.  Like  Bunyan — w-ho  saw  principles 
like  men  walking  in  the  streets — so  Cobden  saw  sentences 
as  palpable  things.  He  saw  his  words  in  the  air  before  him 
as  they  left  his  lips.  If  he  had  put  a  proposition  in  terms 
redundant  he  restated  it  with  retrenchment— that  it  might 
be  more  clearly  seen.  If  the  terms  used  were  too  brief  he 
supplied  those  lacking — lest  his  argument  might  be  incom- 
plete. If  a  phrase  went  too  far  he  qualified  it,  so  that  when 
he  left  it,  ignorance  could  not  misunderstand  his  meaning, 
nor  malignity  pervert  it.  When  it  was  proposed  in  the 
House  of  Commons  to  go  to  war  with  America  to  procure 
cotton,  so  that  our  Lancashire  weavers  might  not  starve,  Mr 
Cobden  answered  to  the  effect  that  war  is  not  proposed  by 
any  honourable  members  from  hatred  to  the  American 
people — no  one  professes  that ;  nor  from  love  of  war — no 
one  had  the  inhumanity  to  avow  that.  The  contention  is 
that  war  would  save  us  expense  in  supporting  our  unem- 
ployed weaver  population  by  bringing  cotton  from  the 
South.  'Since  economy  is  the  reason,'  said  Cobden,  'it 
might  be  well  to  observe  that  it  would  be  far  cheaper  to 
feed  all  our  unemployed  people  on  turtle  soup  and  cham- 
pagne than  go  to  war  for  cotton.'  It  would  be  better  for 
the  weavers,  and  neither  make  bad  blood  between  kindred 
nor  shed  good  blood  in  fratricidal  battle. 

Such  is  good  public  speaking — whose  qualities  are  that  it 
gives  light,  information,  and  direction  without  wasting  time 


PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY  245 

by  prolixity   or  perplexing   the   public   understanding   by 
ambiguity,  or  depraving  the  public  ear  by  verbiage. 

The  orator  is  of  a  different  order.  He  is  a  speaker  in- 
spired by  purpose  and  passion.  He  has  a  torrid  fervour — 
energy,  action — the  power  of  seeing  the  essential  parts  of 
his  subject,  velocity  and  fitness  of  expression,  presenting  an 
impelling  argument  with  a  directness  that  cannot  be  mis- 
taken, and  a  force  that  cannot  be  evaded.  Sometimes  a 
single  burst  of  scorn  is  a  speech,  as  when  Henry  Clay,  in 
slavery  abolition  days,  made  the  famous  retort  to  the  slave- 
owners who  tried  to  drown  his  voice  by  hisses,  by  exclaim- 
ing, *  That  is  the  sound  you  hear  when  the  waters  of  truth 
drop  upon  the  fires  of  hell.' 

There  are  six  names  in  the  memory  of  most  persons  which 
illustrate  the  characteristics  of  parliamentary  oratory — Shiel, 
O'Connell,  Beaconsfield,  Cowen,  Bright  and  Gladstone. 

Shiel  was  a  small  man  with  a  small  voice,  two  disadvan- 
tages which  only  genius  can  cancel.  He  had  a  voice  which 
squealed,  but  his  sentences  had  a  flame  in  them  which 
scorched  the  adversary  they  touched.  At  other  times,  as 
Hawthorne  said,  '  He  spoke  with  a  strange  wild  sound  like 
a  language  half  blown  away  by  the  wind.'  Shiel  had  Irish 
fervour  of  speech  and  French  vivacity  of  action.  There  may 
be  those  who  remember  seeing  Stella  Colas  as  Juliet,  in  the 
garden  scene  with  Romeo,  throw  herself  forward  over  the 
balcony  as  though  she  would  fall  over ;  so  Shiel  threw  his 
body  across  the  table  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  uttering 
his  famous  reply  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  or  Lord  Lynd- 
hurst,  who  had  said  the  Irish  were  aliens  in  race,  blood 
and  religion.  His  accents  were  in  his  hair,  his  eyes,  in  his 
arms,  in  every  limb.  He  was  alive  all  over,  and  from  this 
confluence  of  action  proceeded  a  piercing  stream  of 
sentences  of  scorn  and  fire. 

O'Connell  had  the  three  greatest  qualities  of  an  orator, 
(i)  a  commanding  figure — his  words  came  from  above  you  ; 
(2)  a  voice  which  could  be  heard  by  everyone,  without  which 


246  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

the  entire  audience  cannot  be  moved ;  (3)  the  sagacity  to 
say  things  which  most  interested  those  who  heard  them. 
O'Connell,  besides  a  majestic  stature,  had  a  three-fold  voice  : 
one  of  persuasiveness  in  the  law  court,  one  of  dignity  in 
Parliament,  another  of  resounding  raciness  on  the  platform. 
He  told  us  at  a  meeting  in  London  how  the  birth-rate  in 
Dublin  had  decreased  5000  a  year  for  four  years,  adding,  '  I 
charge  the  British  Government  with  the  murder  of  those 
20,000  infants  who  never  were  born.'  He  saw  nothing 
absurd  in  it,  nor  under  his  magical  voice  did  his  hearers 
until  the  next  day.  An  Irish  schoolmaster,  of  Birming- 
ham, who  was  present,  was  more  self-possessed.  Mr  Sam 
Timmins  told  me  that  the  discerning  schoolman  prodded  a 
friend  near  liim  and  said,  '  That  is  worthy  of  my  country- 


men.* 


Addressing  the  Newhall  Hill  meeting  in  Birmingham,  at 
which  200,000  persons  were  computed  to  be  present, 
O'Connell  observed  a  compact  mass  of  400  women  from 
Rowley  Regis,  who  had  marched  to  Birmingham  in  the 
early  morning.  Grim  and  stalwart,  with  lusty  arms,  they 
maintained  their  position  against  the  pressure  of  the  vast 
throng.  O'Connell's  quick  eye  rested  upon  them  for  a 
moment  and  began  his  oration,  exclaiming,  '  Surrounded  as 
I  am  by  the  fair,  the  gentle  and  the  good.'  They  might  be 
'  good ' — the  Black  Country  industries  did  not  make  women 
'fair,'  and  had  they  been  'gentle'  they  had  never  been  in 
that  turbulent  throng,  but  the  intrepid  compliment  told. 
The  women  cheered,  and  cheered  afterward  everything  he 
said.  The  men  near  cheered  because  the  women  did,  and 
the  crowd  behind  cheered  because  those  before  them  cheered, 
and  so  the  fortune  of  the  great  oration  was  made.  Anyone 
can  read  how  it  was  done  in  the  first  Lord  Lytton's  Neiv 
Timon,  where  he  says : — 


Once  to  my  sight  the  giant  thus  was  given, 

Walled  by  wide  air  and  roofed  by  boundless  heaven. 


PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY  247 

Beneath  his  feet  the  human  ocean  lay, 
And  wave  on  wave  flowed  into  space  away. 
Methought  no  clarion  could  have  sent  its  sound 
Even  to  the  centre  of  the  hosts  around  ; 
And  as  I  thought  arose  the  sonorous  swell, 
As  from  church  tower  swings  the  silver  bell. 
Aloft  and  clear,  from  airy  tide  to  tide 
It  glided,  easy  as  a  bird  may  glide, 
To  the  last  verge  of  that  vast  audience  sent. 
It  played  with  each  wild  passion  as  it  went. 

No  member  of  Parliament  in  my  time  won  in  so  short  a 
time  the  reputation  of  an  orator  as  Joseph  Cowen.  This 
came  to  pass  by  his  speech  in  the  House  of  Commons  on 
the  Bill  for  giving  the  title  of  Empress  to  the  Queen.  The 
House,  impatient  to  vote,  was  filled  with  cries  of  '  Divide, 
divide,'  when  he  rose  for  the  first  time  to  address  it.  All 
that  could  be  seen  was  his  dark,  luminous  eye,  for  his  stature 
is  short ;  all  that  could  be  heard  was  a  new  voice  of  mani- 
festly honest  tone.  His  argument  was  historical,  compact, 
brief,  in  which  three  things  were  said  never  before  or  since 
heard  in  that  House.  He  spoke  of  the  Prince  Napoleon  as 
'  the  son  of  a  usurper ; '  he  said  '  the  divine  right  of  kings 
was  killed  on  the  scaffold  with  Charles  I. ; '  and  declared 
that  '  the  superstition  of  royalty  had  never  taken  deep  hold 
on  the  people  of  this  country.'  All  this  was  unusual  and 
bold.  Of  all  the  sentences  none  were  weak,  and  their 
impetuous  rush  never  ceased  until  the  end — and  Mr  Cowen 
acquired  the  fame  of  an  orator  in  a  single  night. 

If  regard  be  had  to  the  triumphs  of  public  speaking,  Lord 
Beaconsfield  might  be  described  as  the  greatest  orator  of 
our  time.  Race,  religion,  fortune  and  character  were 
against  him — but  he  had  the  instinct  and  art  of  expression, 
and  was  the  only  man  in  Europe  in  his  time  who  had  climbed 
on  phrases  to  power.  He  did  not  study  principles — he  studied 
men,  whom  he  labelled  with  disabling  phrases  as  a  professor 
would  a  plant,  a  shell,  or  a  bird.  His  voice  was  an  organ  of 
policy,  not  of  feeling.     He  might  have  been  sincere  in  a  way 


248  PUBLIC   SPEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

of  his  own — but  he  never  gave  the  impression,  even  by 
accident,  that  he  beheved  what  he  said.  He  was  no  more 
English  in  his  mind  than  Napoleon  the  Corsican  was  French, 
whom  Madame  de  Stael  said  was  '  a  man  of  unknown  nature.' 
Disraeli  was  as  distinct  in  his  ideas  as  though  he  belonged  to 
another  world.  But  he  understood  this  world ;  he  influenced 
men  like  a  master.  He  advanced  himself  as  only  the  un- 
friended can — by  being  of  service  to  his  employers  or  his 
party.  He  had  audacity  and  his  courage  never  forsook  him. 
His  ambition  was  to  dazzle  men.  He  bewildered  others, 
but  never  lost  himself.  Once  when  he  was  overcome,  not 
by  what  he  felt  but  from  what  he  had  taken,  he  could  not 
stand  at  the  Treasury  table  without  clutching  it,  when  he 
exclaimed  that  '  he  was  thankful  there  was  a  table  between 
him  and  Mr  Gladstone,  or  that  right  honourable  and  impetu- 
ous gentleman  might  spring  up  and  attack  him  personally.' 
All  he  meant  was  that  he  might,  but  for  the  table,  fall  into 
the  arms  of  his  adversary.  Thus  he  gave  the  public  to 
believe  that  he  needed  protection,  when  all  he  needed  was 
support.  His  merit  was  that  he  introduced  pleasantry  into 
politics.  His  wit  stood  him  in  the  place  of  principle.  He 
touched  public  affairs  with  a  light  hand ;  and  being  without 
prejudices  or  preferences,  he  often  stated  with  admirable 
force  the  case  to  which  he  was  opposed,  when  it  did  not 
interfere  with  the  purpose  in  hand.  As  Cobden  once  said 
of  Palmerston,  he  was  entirely  impartial,  he  had  no  bias — 
not  even  towards  the  truth. 

Disraeli's  oratory  was  based  on  a  Jewish  craving  for 
effect,  an  instinct  of  speech,  and  early  knowledge  of  himself. 
In  Vivian  Grey  he  described  himself  as  he  always  remained 
— gracious  to  those  who  aided  his  ambition,  vindictive  to 
any  who  opposed  him.  Mr  Stansfeld,  who  had  no  mean 
power  of  his  own,  early  expressed  in  Parliament  that  con- 
tempt for  Disraelian  principles,  which  Lord  Salisbury — 
when  Viscount  Cranbourne — published  a  Review  to  expose. 
After  Stansfeld's  speech,  Disraeli  said  to  a  friend,  '  I  will  do 


PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY  249 

for  that  educated  mechanic ; '  a  well-chosen  phrase  of  hatred 
and  malice.  Soon  after,  he  commenced  nightly  attacks  on 
Stansfeld,  as  a  friend  of  Mazzini,  saying  there  was  an  under- 
ground passage  between  Thurloe  Square,  where  Mazzini 
visited  Stansfeld,  and  the  Treasury  bench  on  which  Stans- 
feld then  sat.  This  continued  until  ended  by  Bernal  Osborne, 
with  his  Jewish  wit,  often  as  effective  as  Disraeli's,  but  with 
a  generous  vein  in  it.  Sir  Richard  Strachey,  whose  elon- 
gated visage  was  blue,  rendered  so  by  some  gunpowder 
explosion,  abetted  the  attack.  After  this  had  gone  on  for  a 
month,  Osborne  broke  in,  'Mr  Speaker,  I  think  this  farce 
has  gone  on  long  enough.  Here,  every  night  towards 
twelve  o'clock,  in  stalks  the  honourable  member  for  Norwich, 
like  a  tragedy  king,  with  his  dagger  and  his  poisoned  bowl ; 
and  he  not  only  acts  the  character,  he  looks  it.'  This  hit 
at  Sir  Richard's  blue  visage  extinguished  him  in  ridicule 
and  laughter.  He  probably  disposed  of  his  dagger  and 
bowl  in  Wardour  Street,  for  it  no  more  appeared  in  the 
House.  Thus  wit  succeeded  where  reason  had  failed. 
Whoever  stood  in  Disraeli's  way  he  stabbed  with  words  as 
a  bravo  would  with  a  dagger.  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  the 
most  polished  gladiator  Parliament  has  known  since  the  days 
of  Canning,  and  he  would  have  been  one  of  the  first  of 
orators  had  he  cared  for  anything  save  the  effect  of  it  on  his 
own  fortunes. 

We  now  turn  to  him  whom  Mr  Beresford  Hope  described 
as  the  '  White  Lion  of  Birmingham ' — Mr  Bright,  who  had 
the  voice  of  an  organ,  at  once  strong  and  harmonious,  which 
swelled  but  never  screeched.  A  resolute  face,  and  a  resolute 
tone,  gave  him  a  commanding  manner;  this,  united  to  a 
stately  way  of  thinking,  gave  him  ascendency  in  oratory. 
Disregarding  details,  he  puts  the  relevance  of  a  question  so 
strongly  that  it  was  difficult  to  express  in  other  words  the 
same  idea  with  equal  force.  As  I  have  said  elsewhere,  take 
this  passage  in  one  of  Bright's  orations,  in  which  you  see  his 
passion  for  justice  and  his  method  of  speech.    He  evrlaims, — 


250  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 

'  I  believe  there  is  no  permanent  greatness  in  a  nation, 
except  it  be  based  on  morality.     I  do  not  care  for  military 
greatness  or  military  renown ;    I  care  for  the  condition  of 
the   people   among  whom    I   live.     There   is   no   man   in 
England  less  likely  to  speak  irreverently  of  the  crown  and 
monarchy  of  England  than  I  am;    but  crowns,  coronets, 
mitres,  military  displays,  pomp  of  war,  wide  colonies  and  a 
huge  empire,  are,  in  my  view,  all  trifles  light  as  air,  and  not 
worth  considering  unless  with  them  you  can  have  a  fair 
share  of  comfort,  contentment,  and  happiness  among  the 
great  body  of  the  people.     Palaces,  baronial  castles,  great 
halls  and  stately  mansions  do  not  make   a   nation.     The 
nation  in  every  country  dwells  in  the  cottage.' 

Here  is  the  Homeric  trend  of  simplicity  and  power,  not 
among  metaphysical  abstractions  (which  flit  before  the  mind 
like  shadows)  but  among  men  and  things,  palpable  to  every 
one,  and  touching  living  interests.     But  let  anyone  turn  to 
the  record  of  Mr  Bright's  speeches  in  the  Anti-Corn  Laws 
days,  and  compare  the  recurrence  of  famous  figures  of  speech 
thirty  years  later,  where  he  described  the  army  and  navy 
as  kept  up  for  the  outdoor  relief  of  the  aristocracy,  and  he 
will  see  that   the  crude   form  of  the  earlier  day  and   the 
finished  expression  of  later  years,  is  as  different  as  the  flint- 
headed  spear  of  the  Mongol  from  the  rapier  of  Toledo.     A 
famous  statue  is  not  cut  out  of  the  first  block  the  sculptor 
lays  his  hands  upon,  nor  is  an  oration  perfected  except  by 
many  efi"orts. 

In  the  clearness  and  melody  of  a  far-reaching  voice,  in 
spontaneity  of  expression,  in  fertility  of  thought  begotten 
by  the  subject  while  speaking  upon  it — in  action  animated 
by  the  sense  of  mastery  and  conviction,  Mr  Gladstone 
excels  all  living  orators.  He  poises  himself  on  words  as  an 
eagle  poises  himself  in  the  air.  When  the  Opposition 
speakers  in  Parliament  have  unexpectedly  collapsed,  Mr 
Gladstone  (when  leader  of  the  House)  is  suddenly  called 
upon  by  the  Speaker  to  close  the  debate.     To  reply  at  once 


PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY  25  I 

on  what  has  not  been  said,  as  well  as  upon  what  has,  re- 
quires consideration.  I  have  heard  Mr  Gladstone  on  such 
occasions  speak  for  several  minutes  without  saying  anything. 
What  you  hear  is  a  well-woven  texture  of  articulation — an 
unbroken  continuity  of  argumentative  mist — an  almost 
infinite  and  coherent  extension  of  glittering  vapour.  The 
circumambient  air  is  thick  with  words,  all  connected — with 
nothing.  An  Italian  poet  has  described  exactly  what  takes 
place : — 

I  certainly  beheld  (nor  do  suppose 

My  sight  deceived  me  aught)  that  in  the  air, 
A  fume  or  vapour  thin  and  subtle  rose, 

And  by  the  wind  began  revolving  there  : 
Thence  to  the  topmost  clouds  its  sprays  it  throws, 

But  of  a  substance  so  exceeding  rare, 
That  scarce  the  naked  eye  its  form  could  see  : 

It  seemed  as  like  the  clouds  composed  to  be. 


All  at  once  the  cloud  is  cleared  away  with  a  sudden 
gesture  and  you  hear  the  words  '  Mr  Speaker.'  The  orator 
then  has  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  scope  of  his  reply,  and 
then  follows  a  stream  of  sentences  direct,  compact,  and 
pungent — crisp  as  the  curling  wave,  definite  as  the  bullet. 
Mr  Gladstone  is  the  greatest  orator  of  our  time,  who  can  be 
serious  and  humorous,  earnest  without  being  heavy,  vehement 
without  imputation — a  very  rare  attainment.  In  all  the 
hurricane  of  personalities,  at  one  time  blown  upon  him  from 
every  quarter,  only  one  charge  of  imputation  was  brought 
against  Mr  Gladstone,  and  that  was  that  he  had  described 
an  opponent  as  a  'certain'  person.  It  is  not  giving  a 
political  but  a  rhetorical  opinion  to  say  that  there  is  no 
example  on  record  of  any  speaker  of  Mr  Gladstone's 
eminence,  who  has  displayed  his  abstinence  from  personal 
imputation — the  easiest  and  most  popular  of  all  the  arts  of 
oratory.  Invective  relieves  the  speaker  of  the  trouble  of 
proof,  and  delights  the  auditor  v.ho  ceases  to  think  of  the 


252  PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND   DEBATE 

question  at  issue,  and  does  not  know  that  it  is  withdrawn 
from  his  sight.  Outraged  partisans  then  appear  upon  the 
scene  and  principles  disappear. 

Of  the  two  great  orators  of  whom  I  have  spoken,  Mr 
Gladstone  has  the  subtler  reason — Mr  Bright  had  the 
stronger  fire.  Mr  Gladstone  is  moved  by  a  sense  of  duty, 
which  seeks  for  reasons  and  waits  for  occasions.  Mr  Bright 
was  incited  by  a  sense  of  justice,  which  is  impetuous  and 
acts  from  indignation.  Mr  Bright's  eloquence  was  more 
volcanic  and  imposing;  Mr  Gladstone's  more  resembles 
lightning — greater  in  vividness,  and  revealing  under  its 
flashes  a  greater  extent  of  hidden  country.  Mr  Bright 
seemed  to  take  just  the  quantity  of  words  upon  the  platform 
which  he  required,  and,  like  parts  of  a  well-fitting  structure, 
each  word  fell  into  its  place  as  the  mighty  oration  proceeded. 
With  Mr  Gladstone  it  is  as  though  he  took  upon  the  platform 
with  him  vast  piles  of  the  English  language,  from  which 
he  takes,  with  a  swift  hand,  whatever  he  requires  for  the 
purpose  of  the  moment;  words  of  strength,  or  beauty,  or 
brightness — of  light,  or  shade,  or  force,  until  each  passage 
is  perfect.  When  a  sentence  is  begun,  you  cannot  always 
foresee  how  Mr  Gladstone  will  end  it.  But  the  great  artist 
never  fails.  His  eye  sees  all  the  while  the  fitting  word  lying 
by  his  side,  and  he  dashes  it  in  with  the  spontaneity  of  a 
master,  and  light  is  difi"used  all  over  the  argument,  as  in  a 
picture  which  has  just  received  the  final  touch  of  genius. 
That  is  Parliamentary  oratory.  The  audience  is  the  most 
cultivated  and  critical  in  the  world.  The  finish  which  is 
applauded  in  the  Senate  would  seem  tameness  on  the 
platform. 

In  that  arena  where  distinction  won  reaches  to  posterity, 
there  are  discerning  plaudits  for  those  feUcities  of  speech 
which  Tennyson  describes  in  Virgil ; — 

Landscape-lover,   lord  of  language,   more   than  he   that   sang   the 

Works  and  Days. 
All  the  chosen  coin  of  fancy  flashing  out  from  many  a  golden  phrase  ; 


PARLIAMENTARY  ORATORY  253 

Thou  that  singtst  wheat  and  woodland,  tilth  and  vineyard,  hive 

and  horse  and  herd. 
All  the  charm  of  all  the  Muses  often  flowering  in  a  lonely  word. 


The  qualities  of  the  noblest  style  are  all  comprised  in  this 
splendid  praise.  But  the  House  of  Commons,  though 
fastidious,  is  not  foolish — neither  is  it  impatient  to  do  right ; 
as  a  rule,  it  is  not  impatient  to  do  anything,  but  it  likes  to 
know  what  it  is  doing.     It  thinks  with  Mark  Antony — 


Who  tells  me  true, 
Tho'  in  the  tale  lie  death, 
I  hear  him  as  he  flattered. 


And  the  working-class  member  who,  like  Mr  Burt,  is 
diffident  without  being  afraid  and  intelligent  without  being 
presumptuous,  may  gain  the  ear  of  the  House.  It  may  be 
charmed  by  a  picturesque  phrase,  as  it  was  by  the  Irish 
member  who  praised  the  whisky  of  his  country  above  all 
other  'because  it  went  down  the  throat  like  a  torchlight 
procession.'  The  House  gives  ear  to  an  honest  voice.  There 
are  some  members  of  Parliament  in  whose  voice  there  is  an 
accent  of  petty  larcency.  But  he  who,  speaking  with  sincerity 
of  manner,  gives  information  upon  subjects  which  he 
knows  and  is  known  to  know,  he  is  listened  to,  however  un- 
pretending or  vernacular  may  be  the  language  in  which 
he  tells  his  story. 

I  omit  many  high  names  and  many  illustrations  of  the 
distinction  other  speakers  and  orators  have  attained  which 
would  interest  the  readers  nearly  as  much  as  those  I  have 
cited.  I  omit  them  lest  by  too  great  variety  I  distract 
attention  from  the  nature  of  oratory,  which  it  is  my  duty  to 
make  clear  and  keep  clear  in  the  reader's  mind.  Most  of  us 
hope  that  the  EngUsh  Parliament  may  maintain  its  ascendency 
as  the  first  political  assembly  in  the  world.  Most  of  us  hope 
that   its   members  will   always  so  comport  themselves  in 


254  PUBLIC   SrEAKING   AND   DEBATE 

dignity  and  excellence  as  to  challenge  the  imitation  of  public 
men.  Whatever  time  may  be  given  to  increase  public 
interest  in  the  high  character  of  Parliament,  or  inspire  any 
who  may  go  there  with  the  desire  to  sustain  it,  is  of  the 
nature  of  patriotism. 

Long  may  it  remain  the  merit  of  Parliament  that  what 
a  man  says  shall  be  more  regarded  than  how  he  says  it. 
Landor  warned  one,  inattentive  to  this,  who  had  brilliance 
without  purpose : — 

Here  lies  our  honest  friend,  Sam  Parr, 
A  better  man  than  most  men  are. 
So  learned,  he  could  well  dispense 
Sometimes  with  merely  common  sense  ; 
So  voluble,  so  eloquent, 
You  little  heeded  what  he  meant. 

The  speaker  and  the  orator  alike  must  mean  something, 
and  something  distinctive.  All  men  cannot  be  orators,  but 
every  man  will  speak  better  and  write  better  by  knowing  the 
qualities  which  go  to  make  the  orator.  Lord  Brougham 
defined  oratory  in  the  sense  in  which  he  himself  excelled  in 
it,  as  the  power  of  seeing,  when  you  begin  a  senti  nee,  all 
through  it,  and  of  knowing  at  the  opening  what  the  end  is 
to  be. 

Protracted  and  parenthetical  as  Brougham's  sentences 
often  were,  there  was  never  confusion  in  them ;  they  always 
terminated  intelligibly.  The  parenthesis,  when  limited  and 
direct,  is  a  sign  of  mastery,  showing  that  the  speaker  never 
loses  sight  of  his  subject.  Concentration  and  directness 
make  the  force  of  speech.  Too  many  objects  presented  to 
the  mind  prevent  the  points  essential  being  seen.  Too 
much  said  means  something  relevant  hidden  by  a  crowd  of 
words,  which  essential  something  should  stand  distinct, 
clear,  open,  alone,  and  endowed  with  the  glory  of  space. 
Economy  in  words,  stopping  at  sufficiency,  implies  mastery 
of  statement.     Captain  Cuttle  said  'his  power  to  put  his 


PARLIAMENTARY   ORATORY  255 

hands  on  a  few  words  whenever  he  wanted  them  came 
from  his  not  wasting  them  as  some  do.'  Walter  Savage 
Landor,  who  himself  equalled  Plutarch  in  the  vigour  which 
comes  of  terseness,  said  : — 

'  Phocion  conquered  with  few  soldiers,  and  he  convinced 
with  few  words.  I  know  not  what  better  description  I 
could  give  you  either  of  a  great  captain  or  a  great  orator.' 


INDEX  TO 
PUBLIC   SPEAKING  AND  DEBATE 


Agitation,  Limited,  218. 

Meteorological,  3. 

AM  Pacha,  discovers  guilt  by  scales, 
20. 

Alienation  begotten  by  manner,  31. 

Allen  Brydges,  the  Waker,  189. 

Allsop,  Thomas,  2. 

Alma  Tadema's  comparison,  229. 

Amberley,  Lord,  his  courageous  hesi- 
tation, 33. 

Amenities  of  Educated  Journalists, 
60. 

American  orator's  simile.  An,  209. 

Antony  Mark,  his  preference,  254. 

Arab  wisdom,  91. 

Archdeacon  and  the  maid,  The,  29. 

Arnold,  Dr,  his  defence  of  inquijy, 

73- 

Arnold,  Matthew,  his  repellent  re- 
iteration, 132. 

instructive  when  not  con- 
temptuous, 215. 

Aspiration  regulated  by  deliberate- 
ness,  10. 

Attainment  measurable  by  tendency, 
6. 

Average  attainment,  16. 


Baconian  ideas  of  Shakespeare, 
162. 

Bacon.  Lord,  on  custom,  93. 

Bain,  Professor  A.,  defends  con- 
flict of  opinion,  81. 

Bailey.  Samuel,  his  rhetorical  dis- 
cover}', 43. 


R 


Bailey,  Samuel,  defends  debate 
76. 

Barbauld,  Mrs,  on  the  praise  of 
Deity,  122. 

Barker,  Joseph,  Saxon  speech,  227. 

Beaconsfield,  Lord,  his  character- 
istics, 249. 

Beecher,  Henrj'  Ward,  his  infinite 
variety,  193. 

Bellew,  Rev.  Mr,  200. 

Bentham's    definition    of  prolixity, 

95- 
Bernal,    Mr,    Parliamentary    sajdng 

of,  153- 

Burchard,  Dr,  his  perilous  allitera- 
tion, 119. 

Birrell,  Augustine,  his  new  view  of 
Emerson,  43. 

Black,  Dr,  his  test  of  mastery,  128. 

William,     his     misadventure 

with  a  printer,  233. 

Blaine's  presidential  candidature  de- 
feated by  a  phrase,  119. 

Blanc,  Louis,  his  animation  obliter- 
ated his  diminutiveness,  40 

Boomerang  similes,  204. 

Bowen,  E.  E.,  his  Harrow  speech 
day  song,  173. 

Bower,  John,  his  unexpected  author- 
ship, I. 

Bowring,  Sir  John,  his  Chinese 
illustration,  29. 

Bright,  John,  109.  141,  145. 

his  economy  in  gesture,  38. 

his  descriptive  power,  147. 

his  qualification  for  preachers, 

180,  250. 

his  manner  of  mind,  250. 

his  self-culture,  250 

Broadhurst,  Henrj',  M.P.,  152. 


258 


INDEX 


Brooke,  Rev.  Stopford  A.,  his 
individuality  of  style,  193. 

Brougham,  Lord,  his  manifold  pre- 
caution, 127. 

excelled  in  vehemence,  142. 

his  famous  maxim,  168. 

his  parentheses,  255. 

Bryant,  on  the  '  unrelenting  past,' 
217. 

Buddha's  sa3nng,  229. 

Bunyan's  style,  225. 

Burke,  Edmund,  on  the  value  of 
adversaries,  76. 

his  revising  care,  125. 

his  method  of  argument,  179. 

Burns,  John,  152. 

Burt,  Thomas,  his  manner  of  speak- 
ing, 149. 

Burt,  254. 

Butler  defines  smatterers,  192. 

his  'greater  mystery,'  225. 

Byron,  213,  216. 

on  vegetarian  vicissitudes,  62. 

his  representatives,  105. 

his    logical    stanza  in    Childe 

Harold,  21 7. 


Canadian  Minstrels  at  the  Mansion 
House,  187. 

Canning's  brutal  reference,  63. 

fastidious  revisions,  125. 

Canterbury,  Archbishop  of,  on  agi- 
tators, 3. 

Carleton's  warning,  83. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  his  illusion,  46. 

a  poet  incapable  of  verse,  213. 

Cattle  market  epithets,  236. 

Cavan,  The  warning  stone  of,  232. 

Chairman,  duties  in  debate,  53,  108. 

Chamberlain,  Joseph,  his  quality  of 
speech,  10. 

and  Pitt,  242. 

Channing,    Dr,    his    weight    avoir- 
dupois, 166. 

Character,  marks  of,  94. 

Charms  of  Sunderland,  80. 

Charnel  House  terms,  167. 

Churchill  Lord  Randolph,  his  error 
in  epithet,  86. 


Civilisation,  a  sense  of  proportion, 

65. 
Clay,    Henry,   his    brilliant  retort, 

246. 
Climates  of  the  mind,  212. 
Cobbett's  syllogism,  19. 

on  forcible  writing,  1 16. 

Cobden,  96,  113,  131. 

to  Mr  Delane,  4. 

his  reason  for  explicitness,  4. 

his  resentment  at  Delane,  71. 

his  persuasive  oratory,  131. 

his    oratory     argumentative, 

141. 

his  mastery  of  statement,  245. 

Coherence,  an  element  of  effective- 
ness, 40. 

Coleridge,  Lord,  his  lute-like  voice, 
29, 

his  ability  of  resentment,  90. 

the    sense    of    continuity    in 

him,  244. 

S.  T.,  his  warning,  68. 

on  arrangement,  92,  93. 

CoUyer,  Dr  Robert,  r66. 

his  prairie  voice,  188. 

Common  sense,  the  natural  sense  of 
mankind,  15,  17. 

its  qualities  explained,  15. 

Conviction,  no  warrant  for  pro- 
mulgation, 85. 

Consuelo's  trial,  139. 

Continental  proverb.  A,  160. 

Corkles,  Mr,  The  case  of,  ill. 

Corpse's  husband.  The,  209. 

Countess  of  Huntingdon  warned, 
184. 

Courtney,  Leonard,  his  three  courses, 
106. 

Cowen,  Joseph,  his  fire,  colour,  and 
imagination,  142. 

his  first  speech  in  Parlia- 
ment, 248. 

Cranbrook,  Lord,  his  hour  glass 
and  drum  oratory,  243. 

his  explosivencss,  244. 

Crisis,  The,  firing  at  it,  232. 

Criticism  involves  respect,  90. 

of  public  meetings,  1 10. 

Crewless  vessels  on  shoreless  seas, 
210. 

Curran's  first  speech,  136. 

Cuttle,  Captain,  judgment,  255. 


INDEX 


259 


D 


Daily  News  on  Cobden's  oratory, 

13I'  147. 

Dale,  Rev.  Dr  R.  W.,  182. 

Dalling,  Lord,  his  diplomatic  fore- 
sight, 235. 

Dante's  creativeness,  121. 

Danton,  his  cannon  voice,  144. 

Davis,  Thomas,  on  the  speeches  of 
Curran,  206. 

Davpson,  George,  the  greatest  plat- 
form speaker  of  his  day,  241. 

Debate,  all  pervading,  50. 

its  five  advantages,  51. 

the  cardinal  rule  of,  51. 

Declamation  of  St  Paul,  26. 

Defence,  Seven  modes  of,  57. 

Definition  defined,  24. 

Delane's  error,  71,  116. 

Deliberation  the  beginning  of  power, 

34- 
Delivery  defined,  26. 
De  Morny's  sentimental  hat,  152. 
De  Morgan  on  sufficiency  of  proof, 

64,  85. 

on  proposition,  128. 

on  decimals,  13S. 

Derby,  Lord,  his  voice,  28,  244. 

excelled    in    giving    reasons, 

243- 

Devil's  Advocate,  The,  194. 

Deviation  a  waste  of  attention, 
70. 

De  Witt's  injunction,  169. 

Dickens,  Charles,  absurd  explana- 
tion of  his  style,  223. 

Difficulty  of  ascertaining  truth,  89. 

Digressiveness  a  tendency  of  nature, 

93- 

Disadvantage  of  the   falHng  voice, 

29. 
Discovery,  coincident,  175. 
Discussion    a    condition    of    truth, 

67. 

does      change      conviction, 

81. 

Disraeli's  account  of  Parliamentary 

failure,  34. 

of  another  world,  141. 

Diversion  is  dispersion,  98. 
Douglas,  Frederick,  his  retort  on  the 

'  dough-faces,'  171. 


Dryden  on  Otway,  45. 

his  precaution,  146. 

Duellistic  imputations,  66,  85. 
Dumont,  on  good  and  bad  reasons, 

his  complaint,  206. 

Duplicity  a  dishonouring  imputa- 
tion, 88. 

Durham,  Lord,  his  surmise,  140. 

Dutch,  The,  their  sagacious  proverb, 
117. 


Early  readers,  i. 

Earnestness    the    schoolmaster    of 

gesture,  38. 
Editor,  An,  consideration   for  him 

judicious,  117. 
Eliot,    George,  confidence    of    her 

little  Jewess,  140. 

her  gobelin  style,  228. 

Elliott,  Ebenezer,  228. 
Elocution,  its  meaning,  8. 
Emerson,   estimate    of    conviction, 

42, 

on  the  style  of  Montaigne,  206. 

Epithets  best  confined  to  opinion, 

84. 

no  Parliamentary  code  of,  86. 

Equine  rhetoric,  17. 
Erskine,  Lord,  his  care  for  appear- 
ance, 126. 
Ethical  laws  of  controversy,  64. 
Europe  on  the  chest,  209. 
Evangelism  against  art,  180. 
Excellence   measurable    by  utility, 

67. 
Exeter,  Bishop  of,  cobweb-minded, 

225. 


Factory  girls'  authorship,  166. 
Fadladeen's  opinion,  95. 
Felton  on  similitudes,  208. 
Feltham's  parable  of  the  goats,  250. 
Fielding's  observant  saying,  172. 
Fischer,  Adolphe,  error  of,  239. 


26o 


INDEX 


Five  things  mistaken   for   reasons, 

25- 
Follett,   Sir  William,   his    forensic 

method,  102. 
Foote's  Grand  Panjandrum,  99. 
'  Former  and  latter,'  penal  terms, 

94. 
Foster  Vere,  138. 
Fox,  Charles  James,  his  eloquence 

effaced  his  figure,  40. 
his  brilliant  recklessness,  125, 

157- 

W.  J.,  his  distinctiveness,  10. 

his  limited  gesture,  38. 

his  famous  exordium,  42. 

a  master  of  method,  100. 

first  discoverer  of  Tennyson, 

213. 

Franklin  joins  in  Whitfield's  collec- 
tion, 184. 

Free  handling,  157. 

Frederic  the  Great's  text,  170. 

French  oratorj',  154,  155. 

Fuller,  Margaret,  128. 

Futile  reading,  197. 


Galileo's  epitaph  at  Monte  Pincio, 

227. 
Gambetta,  sense  in  his  sentences, 

38. 

his  lion  voice,  242. 

Garbling  defined,  88. 

Garrick,     David,    his     escape     by 

lightness,  20. 
General  excellence  impossible,  169. 
Gentlemanly  manner,  The,  242. 
Gibbon's  boldness  in  argument,  55. 
Gilchrist,    Dr,    on    the   futility    of 

rhetorical  rules,  224. 
Gladstone,  Right  Hon.  W.  E.,  his 

animated  gesture,  38. 
his   justification    of   reasoned 

controversy,  75. 
fiis  knowledge  of  epithets,  86, 

112. 

his  circumambiency,  113,  141. 

example  of  his  oratory,  158. 

on  Cardinal  Newman's  preach- 
ing, 165. 


Gladstone,  W.  E.,  the  excellencies 
of  his  oratory,  242. 

his    ascendency    in    oratory, 

250. 

his  compression,  252. 

his  unimputativeness,  252. 

compared  with  Bright,  253. 

Godwin's    definition    of    a    good 

writer,  75. 
Goethe's  inevitableness,  143. 

improves  on  Archimedes,  170. 

Goodrich's  story,  208. 
Goschen,  Mr,  his  filamentary  speak- 
ing, 28. 
Grammar,  ignorance  of  it  unconceal- 

able,  II. 
Grant,     General,     on     Hancock's 

anterior  smile,  52. 
Grattan's  invective,  64. 

comparison,  207. 

Great  preachers,  sermons  of,  192. 
Great  speakers,  241. 
Great  speaking,  qualities  of,  242. 
Grece,  Dr  Clair  J.,  on  the  rule   of 

Demosthenes,  139. 
Green,  J.  R.,  his  suggestive  rule,  44. 
Green,  J.  R.,  German  and  French 

style,  227. 
Grote,  George,  his  phrase, '  reasoned 

truth,'  182. 
George,  229. 


H 


Hale,  Dr    E.    Everett,   his   wise 

suggestion,  233. 
Hall,     Prof.,    wise    advice     to    a 

divinity  class,  196. 
Hall,  Rev.  Robert,  his  momentum 

oratory,  27. 

his  oratorical  manner,  37,  40. 

Hamilton's   Parliamentary  maxims, 

56. 
Hartington,  Lord,  143. 
Hazlitt  and  Burke,  13. 
Headlam,    Rev.    Stewart    D.,    on 

agitators,  3. 
Hedgehog  manners,  105. 
Heeren,  Prof.,  216. 
Heldenmaier's  maxim,  224. 
Herberts,   The  two,     George    and 
Lord  Edward,  6,  II. 


INDEX 


261 


Hibernian  prophecy,  An,  210. 
Hobbes  on  futile  reading,  96. 
Hood's   opinion  that   truth  is  not 

china,  77. 
Hooker,  Richard,  characteristics  of, 

144. 
House  of  Commons,  characteristics 

of,  149. 
Howell,  George,  152. 
Hughes,    Rev.     Hugh    Price,   his 

essentials  of  modern  preaching, 

193- 

Hugo,  Victor,  his  fine  simile,  204. 
Humour,  English  and  Scotch,  152. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  his  prophecy,  65. 

his  sunshine  spirits,  ic6. 

his  similitude  of  Dante's  style, 

121. 
Hutton,   Arthur   W.,  on  Cardinal 

Newman's  care,  237. 
Huxley,   Prof.,   the  bloom   of   his 

sentences,  226. 


Imputative  terms  recited,  88. 
Induction  defined,  20. 
Infallibility  almost  universal,  58. 
Inferences  distinct  from  intent,  71. 
'  Ion '  letters,  2. 
Intellectual  repletion,  217. 
Innuendoes  require  calculation,  167. 
Irish  poet,  An,  marvellous  similes, 

219,  220. 
Irish  skilfulness,  105. 
Italian  oratory,  156. 


Jeffrey,    Lord,   his    warning    to 

young  thinkers,  163. 
Jerrold,  Douglas,  his  tact,  105. 

his  realism,  143. 

on  the  spider  mind,  225. 

Johnson,     Dr,     his     definition     of 

orator}',  7. 

his  mechanical  ex plicitness,  227. 

guilt  decided  by  weight,  20. 

— — -  his  theory  of  intention,  67. 

his  famous  prologue,  217. 

Dr,  228. 

on  contrariety  of  opinion,  233. 


Jones,  Lloyd,  a  lectur:.       miscon- 
ception, 176. 

Jowett,  Professor,  defi.ies  logic  as 
'  dodge,'  19. 


K 


Kames,  Lord,  182. 

143- 

Kelly,  Sir  Fitzroy,  when  he  wept, 

97- 
ICing,  Rev.  Dr,  9. 
Kingsley,  Canon,  194. 
Kean,  Edmund,  he  learns  from  the 

prize  ring,  161. 
Keat's  presage  of  power,  213. 
Knibb,  Rev.  William,  his  colour  in 

statement,  193. 


Landor,  Walter  Savage,   the  foo 
on  the  platform,  221. 

his  character  of  Parr,  255. 

his  definition  of  a  good  oratoi 

255- 
Languages  consist  in  distinctions  o. 

sound,  8. 
Laurie,  J.  S.,  on  intelligent  reading, 

200. 
Lawson,  Sir  Wilfrid,  the  characte 

of  his  humour,  152,  153. 
Lassalle,  Ferdinand,  149. 
Leadership  of  ideas,  7. 
Lecky,  his  vivid  verse,  212. 
Legislative  reading,  201. 
Leifchild,  Dr,  ruinous  rules,  195. 
Leigh,   peerage,  singular  evidence 

on,  21. 
Leonardo  di  Vinci, 
Liar,    the   term    a  breach   of   the 

peace,  87. 
Light,  A,  better  seen  revolving,  44 
Lincoln's  art  of  putting  things,  I2ji 
Lind,  Jenny,  her  discovery,  239. 
Locke,  on  habit  in  learning,  138 

learns  from  himself,  161. 

Logic  defined,  18. 

the  light  of  speech,  242. 


262 


INDEX 


Lord  Spraggle's  success,  140. 
Love,  its  rhetoric,  106. 
Lowell,  clergyman's  evasion,  22. 
Lucio's  lesson  to  Isabella,  31. 
Ludlow,    General,     his     sagacious 

stipulation,  45-51. 
Luzzatti  on  the  platform,  157. 
Lyall,  Miss  Edna,  her  history  of  a 

lie,  233. 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  his  cold  sagacity, 

142. 
Lytton,  Lord,  140. 

on     Parliamentary    oratory, 

238. 

his   description  of  O'Connell 

on  the  platform,  247. 


M 


Macaulay,  as  a  momentum 
speaker,  27,  205. 

his  criticism,  223. 

his  manner  of  speaking,  126. 

Mackintosh,  Sir  James,  on  truth  of 
premises,  19. 

Macklin,  discovered  himself,  79. 

his  failure,  98. 

Magee,  Bishop,  194. 

on  naming  sermons,  232. 

his   three  kind   of  preachers, 

232. 

Malibran,  the  advice  of  Garcia  to 
her,  138,  241. 

Manners  do  matter,  31. 

Massillon,  his  famous  sermon,  159. 

finds  wisdom   in  the  cloister, 

161. 

his  courtly  oration,  176. 

his  parish,  184. 

Mastery  is  certainty,  1 34. 

Maule,  Mr  Justice,  a  fiend  not  dis- 
qualified for  a  lawyer,  235. 

Maurice,  Rev.  F.  D.,  194. 

Mavor's  superfluity  of  terms,  116. 

Mazzini,  250. 

M'Carthy,  Justin,  on  Cardinal  New- 
man, 165,  141,  148,  243. 

Meetings,  public,  regulated  by 
clamour,  112. 

Men  are  four,  140. 

Merit,  The,  of  hitting  is  in  the  aim, 
181. 


Method,  its  commandingness,  92. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  on  the  utility  of 
logic,  16. 

his  deliberateness,  33. 

on  care  in  statement,  68. 

his  classic  grace,  229,  242. 

the  path  of  principle,  243. 

his  notable  repartee,  243. 

Milton's  error  as  to  the  '  encounters  * 
of  truth,  76. 

premeditated  verse,  215. 

Minor  days  of  great  poets,  213. 

Mirabeau,  his  simile,  144,  206. 

Misrepresentation  intentional  per- 
version, 86. 

Misunderstanding  strong  in  well- 
meaning  people,  117. 

Mogul  Sultan  Achar,  none  lost  on 
a  straight  road,  232. 

Moliere's  practice,  228. 

Moore,  Thomas,  his  warning  against 
verbiage,  47,  106. 

Morelly's  problem,  225. 

Morley,  John,  on  Burke's  digressive- 
ness,  99. 

on  Burke's  style,  223. 

Henry,  his  repellent  preten- 
sion, 175. 

Muzart  Pass,  The,  inscription  there, 
210. 


N 


Names  have  something  in  them, 
82. 

Napoleon,  characteristics  of,  47, 
48. 

Napoleon,  Louis,  149-152, 

Neale,  Edward  Vansittart,  on  store 
squirrels,  207. 

Negro  scripture  reading,  190. 

New  York  Tribune,  description 
by,  I. 

New  Moral  World,  The,  176. 

Newhall  Hill  Oratory,  9. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  his  manner  of 
preaching,  165. 

on  accuracy  of  mind,  181. 

his  simile  of  heresy,  206. 

Newman,  F.  W.,  192. 

Northcote,  Sir  Stafford,  his  un- 
warranted complaint,  86. 


INDEX 


263 


Obadiah  Turner's  Journal,  188. 
O'Connell,   Daniel,   on  success    in 

aiming,  53. 
his  three  manners  of  speech, 

247. 

his  Newhall  Hill  speech,  247. 

O'Connor,  T.  P.,  on  Mr   Sexton's 

oratory,  129. 
Official  evasion,  23. 
One  tongue  sufficient  for  excellence, 

13- 

07tus  probanda  often  an  advantage, 

Opponents  limited  by  their  quali- 
ties, 54. 

Orator,  The,  his  soliloquy,  35. 

the  defined,  246. 

Oratory,  its  tragic  material,  146. 

Osborne,  Bernal,  his  Jewish  wit, 
250. 

Otway  on  Dryden,  45. 

Overdoing  is  undoing,  183. 

Owen,  Robert,  131. 

his  principles  stated  by  Victor 

Hugo,  204. 

Oyster  ideas,  167. 


Paderewski's  patience  in  mastery, 

236. 
Paganini,  241. 
Paine's  unsuspected  capacity,  35. 

a  master  of  metaphors,  206. 

Paley,  Archdeacon,  his  epithets,  86, 

102. 

his  condition  of  interest,  168. 

Palmerston,     Lord,     his     platform 

artifice,  33. 
Panchard  on  Mirabeau,  167. 
Papers  read,  the  length  of,  109. 
Parker,   Rev.    Joseph,  D.D.,  upon 

the  first  edition,  2. 
Parker,  his  act  of  friendliness,  2. 

on  better  hearers,  191. 

his  intrepid  advice,  192. 

on  Berlin  wool  oratory,  204. 

Parliament,  characteristic  of  it,  254. 
Parry,    Serjeant    John     Humffrey, 

151- 


'  Parsons,  of  York,'  his  stateliness 

of  argument,  194. 
Peel,  Sir  Robert,  the  second,  242, 
Perfect  expression,  economy  of,  4. 
Phillips,    Wendell,    his   theory    of 

ownership,  2. 
Charles,     his      forensic     un- 

scrupulousness,  53,  97. 
Pickard,  Benjamin,  152. 
Pitt's  overcomingness,  10,  242. 

worsted  moments,  28. 

his    consideration    in  speech, 

125. 
Pope's  demented  aphorisms,  22. 

his  wise  question,  24. 

Practical  efficiency,  5,  11,  16. 
Praise   the    measure    of    him   who 

gives  it,  122. 
Preacher,    A    young,    his    despair, 

164. 
A      coloured,     of     Chicago, 

189. 
A,  his  ill-conditioned  simile, 

202. 
Presidential      reading     at     British 

Association,  198. 
Principle,  a  path,  70. 
Prolonged  meetings,  109. 
Proof,  the  mania  of,  56. 
Propagandism  without  a  definition, 

182. 
Prudhon's  abruptness,  185. 
Public  speaking  when  perfect,  245. 
Punshon,  Morley,  his  vividness  of 

delivery,  193. 


Questioning  a  wise  resource,  74. 
Quickly,    Mrs,    her    characteristic, 

93- 
Quickness,  American  and  French, 

154. 


Rapidity,  a  cause  of  slovenliness, 

10. 
Reading,  its  freshness  depends  upon 

the  reader,  127. 


264 


INDEX 


Reading,  art  in  it,  199. 

measure  in  it,  199. 

Real,  A,  negro  sermon,  190. 
Realism,  unnoticed  truth,  161. 
Reason,  the  price  of  consent,  77. 
Reasoning  defined,  17. 
Refracting  mind.  The,  88. 
Repetition,     tracing     applications, 

130. 
Representative,  grammar  explained, 

12. 
Representation,    the    condition    of 

grammar,  12. 
Republic  of  Learning,  The,  5. 
Repugnance,  no  proof  of  incapacity, 

168. 
Retrospection  in  speech,  231. 
Rhetoric,  the  art  of  persuasion,  6. 

Plato's  definition,  6. 

Rhetorical     shocks      require    pre- 
caution, 186. 
Rickhert,    Herr,    what   he    heard, 

210, 
Ridicule,  its  nature,  68. 
Ritson,  Mr,  on  Hooker,  145. 
Robespierre,    a    guillotine    in    his 

sentences,  39. 
his    pertinacity    in     speech, 

133- 

Roche,  Sir  Boyle,  his  perpendicular 
prostration,  216. 

Roebuck,  John  Arthur,  113,  142. 

his  mathematical  method,  243. 

Rogers,  Rev.  J.  Guiness,  1S2. 

Rosebery,  Lord,  on  Pitt's  speak- 
ing, 28. 

Rosetti's  Damozel,  214. 

Royalist  similes,  205. 

Rufus,  William,  his  dentistry  of 
truth,  83. 

Rumour,  suspicions  of,  234. 

Russell,  Lord  John,  described  by 
Lord  Lytton,  106. 


Sand,  George,  139. 

a  goddess  of  Lucidity  wanted, 

234- 
Sarcasm,  its  quality,  68. 
Satire,  intellectual,  69. 
Saul,  a  suspicious  simile  of,  203. 


Schlegel,  Frederic,  his  idea  of  good 

prose,  121. 
Scotch  discernment,  167. 
Scott,  Walter,  his  homeric  quality, 

216. 
Self — which  self?  172. 
Sense,  the  guide  to  emphasis,  30. 
Sermon,    a   pathway    to  a    point, 

182. 

value  of  written  ones,  195. 

Serum  Fridavi,  9. 
Shakespeare's  art  of  thought,  162. 
Shebbeare,  Dr,  his  ears,  62. 
Shelley's  new  roll  repasts,  62 

his  melody,  214. 

Sheppard,  Jack,  spiritualised,  207. 
Sherbrooke,  Lord,  the  teeth  in  his 

sentences,  244. 
Sheridan's  preparation,  125. 
Shiel  squealed,  145. 

his  premeditation,  1 28. 

his  impassioned  oratory,  246. 

Siddons,  Mrs,  her  wise  preparation, 

143- 

Simile,  a  political,  ill-conceived, 
202. 

explained,  202. 

Smith,  Toulmin,  argument  by  de- 
finition, 51. 

Goldwin,    his     influence     on 

the  Canadian  press,  63. 

his    definition     of     oratory, 

238. 

Rev.  Sidney,  on  cold  de- 
corum, 194. 

Sneers  of  smatterers,  10. 

Social   difficulty   of   consistency  in 

piety,  188. 
Sojourner  Truth's  famous  reproach, 

171. 
Somerset,    Lady   Henry,   her    bear 

simile,  204. 
Speakers,  mistakes  of,  no,  ill. 
Spurgeon,  Rev.  C.  H.,  his  wisdom 

in  collecting  illustrations,  96. 
Spurgeon,  his  friend,  181. 
Stael,    Madame   de,  her  syllogism, 

18. 
Stage  voice,  The,  9. 
Stansfield,   Right  Hon.  Sir  James, 

his  phrase  of  light,  172. 

his    contempt    of    Disraelian 

principles,  249,  250. 


INDEX 


265 


State  squirrels,  207. 

Stating  a  case,  178. 

Stevenson,  R.   Louis,  on  prevision 

in  arrangement,  236. 
Stracey,   Sir   Richard,    his    dagger 

and  his  bowl,  250. 
St  Beuve's  method,  104. 
St  Jerome's  maxim,  60. 
St  Paul,  sajring  of,  139. 
Stupidity,   attractive  when  perfect, 

116. 
Style  defined,  222,  229. 
Success  of  sound,  145. 
Superlatives  mostly  dangerous,  69. 
Surly,  A,  monk,  177. 
Surprises  provoke  resentment,  41. 
Suspicion,  not  proof,  84. 
Swift,    Dean,    definition    of    good 

breeding,  123. 

saying  of,  229. 

Syllogism,  The,  explained,  18. 
Symonds,    J.    Addington,    on    in- 

evitableness,  236. 
Systematic  treatises,  3. 


Talleyrand,  diplomatic  repeti- 
tion, 133. 

Talmud,  The,  its  similes,  218. 

Taste  has  its  laws,  120. 

Tennyson,  Lord,  describes  Virgil's 
style,  253. 

Terms,  misplacement  of,  in  Candle- 

riggs,  97- 
Tests  disregarded,  188. 
Thackeray  and  Yates,  case  of,  89. 
Theological  epithets,  86. 
Thiers,  source  of  his  success,  44. 
Thorn    of    Inverury,     his    art     of 

hesitation,  103. 
Thompson,  George,  150. 
Times,     The,      its     self-contained 

articles,  133. 
Time,  The,  sister  Oblivion,  216. 
Tomkins,  pricked,  189. 
Too  strong  and  too  tedious,  226. 
Towcester   Show   Woman,   A,   her 

graphic  speech,  224. 
Traducing,    a   defamatory    charge, 

87. 


Transition,  The,  argument  obsolete, 

46. 
Truth  in  logic  defined,  19. 
Truth  can  be  suppressed,  239, 
Turner,  out  in  the  storm,  172. 


u 


Uncle  Eben's  simile,  211. 
Undertaker  talk,  207. 
Understatements,  56. 
University  readmg,  198. 
Utopian  action  belongs  to  Utopia, 
45- 


Vambery,    Prof.   Arminius,    walks 

on  his  tongue,  239. 
Vickers,  Rev.  Mr,  1. 
Vinet's  unusual  advice,  233. 
Voltaire,  the  fame  maker  of  Mas- 

sillon,  183. 


W 

Walsall  Literary  Institute,    10. 
Warburton,  Bishop,  his  malevolent 

simile,  121. 
Wellington,  his  economy  in  men, 

47- 
his  decision  of  judgment,  148. 

169. 

his  defamation  of  his  country- 
men, 246. 

Wesley's  length  of  a  sermon,  172. 

Westbury,  Lord,  his  Baconian  pre- 
cision, 244. 

'  WTiat  did  iMr  Gladstone  say  ? ' 
HI. 

Whately,  Archbishop,  wise  advice 
to  preachers,  124. 

Whewell,  Professor,  139. 

White,  Blanco,  his  famous  sonnet, 
218. 

White,  William  Hale,  144,  158. 

Whitfield's  forty  minutes'  discourse, 
172. 

his  preaching   184. 


266 


INDEX 


Wilson,  John,  152. 

Wolseley,  Lord,  his  wise   counsel, 

32. 
Words  superfluous,  impediments  of 

sense,  171. 
W^ordsworth,  on   the   art   of  verse, 

215. 
Working  men  in  Parliament,  150. 
Writing,   reducible   to   two   letters. 

14. 


Writing  for  the  press,  and  rule  for, 

114. 
down  to  others,  limited,  167. 


Zelus,   Rev.   David,    his    singular 
epitaph  97. 


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